2859: The Merry Miles Edition
by Halfrobotchicken
Summary: Santana and Brittany do Christmas with their families. Three-Shot.
1. Chapter 1

**1400 Miles from Seattle to Colorado Springs**

"S'duna?" Brittany called with her toothbrush hanging from her mouth while she pulled her blonde hair back into a ponytail. "S'duna!"

Finally, Santana appeared behind her the bathroom mirror, she quirked her eyebrow in question.

Brittany's eyes met hers in the reflection, "Di ew pack my wedder?"

"Yes, of course," Santana said. She gave Brittany a once over, "Are you getting dressed?"

The blonde looked down at herself like she didn't know she wasn't wearing pants, "Affa bwushin."

"Okay," Santana tapped her watch, "Two and half hours, baby."

"I woe, I woe," Brittany gave her a wink. "Ids da wanedeer one dis year."

Santana nodded, "I got it. Elves was last year, alternate every year."

Brittany pulled the toothbrush out leaving toothpaste foam on her lips, "This year you get your very own!"

"Can't wait," Santana put on a big, cheery, and decidedly fake smile. "Not just taking the family portrait this year, I'll be right in there wearing a tacky sweater with a giant deer on it."

"That doesn't look like excitement, honey."

"I can't imagine why it doesn't?"

"Mom makes them herself, you know," Brittany told her. "So, you better act excited when you get it."

"Okay, Britt," Santana leaned up against the sink. "But that isn't really a secret, right? At Thanksgiving, she took my measurements and asked which was my favorite of Santa's reindeer."

"Mine's Dancer!" Brittany said with a giggle.

"Mine's Vixen," Santana admitted. "Your mother didn't seem surprised by that."

"I can't imagine why she didn't," Brittany teased before shoving her toothbrush back in her mouth. "Ids a famwee twadshun, er my wide na. Haffa do it."

"And yet I still married you knowing that this day would come," Santana said appreciating Brittany's panty-clad ass. She reached out and snapped the waistband just because she could. "Must have been your tremendous assets."

"Mussa in," the blonde said before quickly turning a placing a foamy kiss on Santana's lips. "Or you just really love me."

"That's kinda gross," Santana wiped the toothpaste off her face and backed out of the bathroom.

"You've eaten far less questionable things off far more questionable parts of my body, Santana!" Brittany called as she went back to brushing.

She could pretend like that wasn't true, but what would be the point. She'd eat pretty much anything that was semi-edible off any part of Brittany's body. She knew it. Brittany knew it. The neighbors whose bedroom just happened to be on the other side of the their bedroom wall knew it. She had a stupid smile on her face just thinking about the last time when she heard her phone buzz.

**Guppy Face**  
_It's me. Sam. I'm at the door. Come alone._

Santana checked to make sure Brittany was still occupied before rushing to the front door of their apartment. Sam was standing there, big lips on display.

"Is it there?" she asked quietly.

"The eagle has landed," Sam replied in his own hushed tones.

"Stop it with the eagle bullshit and just tell me it's there, jackass."

"The mission proved to be possi-"

Santana leaned out the door, "I will throatpunch you and leave you for dead if you don't tell me in point two seconds."

"It's there!" Sam said quickly. "Put together and all set up."

"Thanks Samuel." Santana patted him on the face, maybe a little too hard. "We'll see you in a few days."

Despite his attempts to elongate the conversation, Santana shut the door in his face. She already had to hear him bemoan the tragedies of his long-distance relationship with Kurt for hours the night before while he sat between her and Brittany on their couch, eating their ice cream, watching National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation on their television. At this point, just the thought of the sound of his voice was like drilling directly into her skull. Not pleasant.

By the time she had turned back, Lord Tubbington had taken the opportunity to plant himself between her feet and remind her that it was time for his morning feeding. She grabbed a bag of previously proportioned cat food and poured it into his bowl. Five pounds lost and counting, Lord Tubbington was going to be Lord Slimmington by Spring. She gave Tubbs a couple scratches down his back before heading to the bedroom.

"Did you already take Tubbs' overnight bag to Mike and Tina?"

"Yep," Brittany answered as she pulled on a pair of jeans. "I took it over last night and played with Alex for a few minutes."

"You played with Alex?" Santana stopped and snapped her attention to Brittany. "Where was I?"

"I snuck out while Sam was doing a replay of his last phone conversation with Kurt, I think you may have fallen asleep."

"And you didn't wake me up? Thanks a lot!"

"We both couldn't have gotten out, San," Brittany answered. "You were already asleep and feeling no pain. I did what I had to do."

"You left me behind, Britt! For better and worse, remember?"

"Sacrifices, sweet cheeks," Brittany said. She glanced up at her wife who had continued the task of packing up for their week away. "He's really cute."

"Alex?" Santana said distractedly. "Yeah, he's adorable."

Brittany pulled at the hem of her shirt and bit nervously on her lip, "I think he looks like you."

"Because he's Hispanic?"

"No, because he looks like you," Brittany said. "I think...that if you...well, _we_...but _you_...had a baby, that baby might look a lot like Alex."

"Yeah," Santana's head bobbed a couple of times. "Might."

"Just a thought," Brittany tried to throw in nonchalantly.

"We've been married all of six months, Britt Britt," Santana said as she sat on the large suitcase on the bed. "And while I'm not ruling out a little Alex, I'm kind of a fan of blondes. Come and zip."

"We can have both." Brittany zipped around Santana's dangling legs and then leaned forward on her hands. "A little you and a little me."

"We can...and we will," the brunette said as she snaked her arms around Britt. "Or I could have a lot of you right now."

Brittany searched the room for the clock, "While that's a great idea, we have a plane to catch in a couple hours."

"Damn," Santana said nuzzling the blonde's neck. "You think your mom would miss us?"

"I think my mom would kill us," Brittany said seriously.

While Santana knew this to be an exaggeration, it wasn't much of one. Susan Pierce was by all intents and purposes a sweetheart of a woman, but she took her family gatherings very seriously. And if Brittany and Santana didn't appear by dinner, there would be hell to pay. Okay, more like a couple of scolding looks and a good dose of mom guilt. Still, neither of them wanted any part of that.

#

The flight to Denver was pretty uneventful. Brittany stuck to her normal routine which was to pass out as soon as they were in air. She always fell asleep with her arm looped around Santana's and her head resting on her wife's shoulder about 10 minutes in. It was pretty enjoyable, though, because she would startle herself awake a good three or four times, sit up abruptly, and then look around wide eyed until she remembered where she was. Santana always laughed, Brittany always gave her a look and then went right back to sleep. Santana almost looked forward to the turbulence.

The airport in Denver was busy with holiday traffic, but it didn't take as long as they thought before they had collected their bags and were hearing the unmistakable bellowing of Paul Pierce.

"Sugar Cookie!"

Brittany's face lit up with the child-like grin she reserved for her father, "Hey Daddy!" she said as she jogged to him to give him a big hug.

Paul Pierce was a massive guy with a permanent smile and a deep, booming voice. He was well over six feet, balding, and had a belly that proved that he sampled a lot of what he made as a pastry chef. He also called his daughters by cute little dessert inspired nicknames. Santana found it pretty comical.

As soon as he released Britt, Paul set his sights on Santana, "C'mon over here, Cinnabunns."

Santana obliged and was soon lifted off the ground in one of their famous Pierce Embraces. One of the biggest challenges she faced when blending into her wife's family was the unadulterated affection they showed each other. Always. It used to make her a bit uncomfortable, but now, she kind of loved it. In fact, she hugged him back with as much vigor.

"Hey Papa Pierce," Santana said when he sat her back on the ground.

"Alright, ladies," he said as he put his giant hands on each of their shoulders and led them toward the exit. "I'm under strict orders to get you home ASAP."

The hour and a half drive to Colorado Springs was one they had both gotten used to. They made the trip to Brittany's parents' house a several times a year. Brittany had always been close to her family and their moving away from Seattle had been rough on her. So, they visited for holidays, birthdays, and sometimes a weekend just because.

Santana had also gotten pretty accustomed to Paul Pierce's subtle interrogations.

"Anything new?" he asked as they were traveling down I-25.

"No," Brittany answered from the passenger seat. "Nothing exciting has happened since Thanksgiving, Dad."

"Nothing exciting or nothing new?"

"Neither," Brittany said. "Tubbs lost another half a pound thanks to San."

"Good work, Santana," Paul said, humoring Brittany. "It's about time somebody put that cat on a strict diet regimen."

"She makes him jump through hoops," Brittany replied. When Paul chuckled, Brittany told him, "Really dad, she puts organic treats on the floor and he has to jump through real hoops to get them."

"I learned it on The Cat Whisperer," Santana said.

Paul seemed impressed by that, "So how's work?"

"Work is fine," Brittany answered. "We're working on a vacuum campaign right now."

"This vacuum really sucks!" Santana added. "She's amazing, just so talented."

"Thanks," Brittany said with a small smile. She looked up at her father who was also sporting a proud smile.

"You are good at what you do, Brittany," he said. "We made a DVD of all your commercials and sent them to the neighbors with our Christmas baskets this year."

"I'm sure they'll enjoy that," Brittany said sarcastically.

"So you're doing alright?" Paul asked after a minute. "No unforeseen expenses?"

"We're fine, Dad," Brittany answered.

"Santana?" the man looked at her knowingly in the rearview mirror.

"Everything's going great," she said to him. Apparently, that was the answer he was looking for because he gave her a wink and turned his attention back to the road.

She gave Brittany a look out of the corner of her eye, but she didn't seem to have noticed anything out of the ordinary. Paul was always asking questions like that, so it didn't make Brittany suspicious, thank goodness.

"Your mother told me to make sure I got you away from the airport and any outbound planes before I told you she was forcing all you kids to go caroling tonight."

That made Santana's attention snap back to him, "What?"

Paul chuckled, "That's the exact reaction I expected, Cinnabunns."

"Fantastic," Santana mumbled under her breath.

"Oh, yeah, drat!" Brittany said as she unconvincingly punched herself lightly in the knee.

"You knew!" Santana stated with narrowed eyes.

"Noooo...no, absolutely not," Brittany said as she looked back at her wife. "Maybe, she told me las-Yes. Okay. I did. Drag it out of me, why don't ya."

"Not cool," Santana replied. "I thought we were on the same team."

"We are," Brittany said. "But I'm also on the same team as my mom, San. Sometimes with the offense and defense, I get confused and score a goal on the wrong side."

"That's true," Paul commented. "You should have seen her play basketball in middle school. Her stats said 10 points, but all together it was more like 25 points per game."

"I got skills," Brittany bragged.

"Unofficial all-time leading scorer of the Barlow Middle School Yellow Jackets Women's Basketball program, right here," Paul said as he and his daughter exchanged spirited high fives.

"Go team," Santana said with a snarl.

#

The Pierce home was one of those places where everyone just feels welcome. It's easy to feel like a part of something warm and gooey upon entrance. Santana felt at ease here and with Brittany's family. They accepted her into the fold immediately. She had been assigned a dessert inspired nickname and Mrs. Pierce referred to her as "one of my girls" along with Brittany and Jamie. The Pierce parents were easy to win over and it seemed like a breeze to stay in their favor. Jamie Pierce, however, she was a whole other story.

Jamie was quite a bit younger than Brittany. Nine years to be exact. She attended the University of Colorado, majoring in "anything that wasn't advertising" whether it was to spite Brittany or just because she was tired of comparisons was yet to be determined. They definitely looked the part of sisters. They had a very similar build, despite Jamie being an inch or so shorter. They had matching bright blue eyes, though Jamie's hair wasn't as golden blonde. In personality, they were as different as night and day. Where Brittany was bubbly, Jamie was bitchy. Where Brittany was sweet and ever the optimist, Jamie was sarcastic and cynical. In essence, Jamie Pierce was a whole lot like Santana Lopez. Which is why putting them in the same room was kind of like putting two pissed off cats in the same cage.

"Snickerdoodle!" Paul called for Jamie as they all entered the Pierce residence. "Your sister and Santana are here."

"Kitchen, Dad!" they heard Jamie's voice.

As they all filed in, Santana saw a familiar face sitting at the table. "Jake! You made it to a second Pierce holiday, I'm shocked."

Jake, who was munching at what appeared to be a popcorn ball, attempted to say something, but Jamie had other ideas.

"Yeah," Brittany's sister replied. "It's almost as shocking as when you made it to yours."

"Ha Ha!" Santana flicked her ear on her way by. "You're hilarious."

"Oh, 30 seconds," Brittany said as she looked at her watch before leaning down to give her sister a quick one-armed backwards hug. "That's a new record! Awesome, you guys."

"She started it," Jamie said instinctively.

"_She started it_," Santana mimicked in her whiniest voice.

"Honey!" Brittany said in that tone of voice that she usually reserved for Lord Tubbington or when Sam was being particularly stupid.

Santana shot Jamie a glare before raising her hands in defeat. "Sorry, sorry. Best behavior."

"Just for now," Brittany said and sidled up closer to her wife. "Later you can be bad again."

"Oh, gross," Jamie groaned. "Could you two please not start that shit already?"

"Watch your mouth, kid," Paul said as he grabbed a popcorn ball for himself. "Where's your mother?"

"She said something about volunteering for a couple hours at the food bank," Jamie said, then cut her eyes over the Brittany and Santana. "But with the lesbians here and all, it could have very well been the sperm bank."

"It was definitely the food bank," Jake said seriously.

"It was a joke," Jamie said to him.

"Oh," he looked around the room and then took another bite of the popcorn ball.

Paul sighed deeply, already resigned to the constant snark, and got up to leave the room, "I'll call Mom and tell her all the girls are here."

"Thanks Dad," Brittany said brightly. She lowered her voice when he was out of the room, "We'll just stay right here while I prepare Santana for insemination."

"Jesus, Britt!" Jamie complained. "I'm out!" she bellowed as she hotfooted it in another direction from her father.

Jake looked at the women for a second and then begrudgingly got up to follow his girlfriend.

Santana liked to think she made the most of every opportunity, so she was on those lips as soon as humanly possible. "Is it wrong to think it's so fucking hot when you piss her off?" Santana asked when she finally backed off. "Because I'm really turned on right now."

"A little, I think," Brittany answered. "But if this is how I'll be rewarded, I'll tell all her most embarrassing childhood stories at dinner."

"You always know just the right thing to say," Santana told her as she pressed her lips against Brittany's again. She threw both arms around her shoulders and pulled Brittany tightly against her.

Brittany's hands dropped to Santana's ass and lifted her and her legs had nearly made it around the blonde's waist when they heard a deep voice clearing his throat.

Brittany immediately dropped her wife and it was a damn good thing Santana was so agile, or she would have plopped right down on her butt. Instead she landed on her feet, staring at Brittany's dad while Brittany herself hid her face in Santana's shoulder.

"Susan is on her way," Paul said. He turned to leave, but paused and looked over his shoulder, "Oh, and Santana, you have some sugar cookie on your face."

"Thanks Papa Pierce," she said completely unsure of how else to respond.

It took absolutely no time after Paul called Susan, that Brittany's mom was flying through the front door at warp speed. She was the more energetic, louder, more smiley version of Brittany, but had all the attitude of Jamie. Her blonde hair had a bit more gray than she would have liked, but she was aging very well. Santana had made that remark to Brittany several times.

"Brittany Sue!" she called to her oldest daughter when she found her and Santana snuggled on the Pierce's couch.

"Mom," Brittany greeted her with a customary Pierce Embrace after untangling herself. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas to you, too," Susan said returning the hug. "I trust the two of you had a good flight?"

"Yes ma'am."

"And a nice drive?"

"Of course," Brittany smiled.

"And already got caught by your dad making out in the kitchen?"

Brittany turned red, "He's got such a big mouth!"

"It was Jamie," Susan replied. "You know she's always lurking for some gossip."

"Should've known," Brittany said, looking around the room for her hiding sister.

"So, I have a fun evening planned," Susan told them, doing a little dance in place.

"Santana knows about the caroling."

Britt's mom stopped abruptly, "Who told?"

"Not me!"

Susan eyed Santana who was playfully eying her back. "I knew Paul would try to warn you, but it looks like he already had you trapped."

"He did," Santana answered as she got up to hug her mother-in-law.

"I would have asked, but you're married to one of my kids, which makes you one of my kids, so I don't have to ask anymore," Susan shrugged. "Better practice your scales, girls."

"I've been warming up my lips already," Santana said with a smirk.

Susan laughed, "Then no excuses. Love you both, have a few things to check on." And with that, the whirlwind traveled onto another project.

"Like you could have said no even if she had asked," Brittany said to her wife.

"Say no to your mom," Santana scoffed. "Like that's an option for anyone."

#

So caroling wasn't that really that bad because before she knew it, Santana was back at the Pierce home sitting around the table. Brittany sat closely beside her as their hands tangled together on Santana's lap It was one of the many benefits of their lefty/righty relationship. Jamie and Jake sat across from them, each stuffing their faces as unattractively as the other. And the Pierce parents were placed at either end trading fond looks at each other over the table. Santana couldn't help by think their little family was the cutest and she was thoroughly enjoying the dinner that Paul had whipped up before Susan spoke up.

"So, Britt, how's Samuel doing?"

"He's great," she responded with a smile.

"And annoyingly whiny," Santana added quietly.

Brittany looked at her curiously, but continued, "He's leaving for New York in a couple days to spend the holiday with Kurt. We're meeting up with them at Rachel's."

"Rachel's?" Susan asked. "You can't be here for Christmas, but you're going to Rachel's?"

"Mom," Brittany warned. "We're not spending Christmas at Rachel's. We're just visiting."

"Hm," Susan said with obvious disapproval.

"She's having a little dinner with some friends," Santana said. "It's a chance for me to catch up with everyone before we go to my parents' house."

"I'm sure that's nice," Susan all but growled.

"We're over it, Mom," Brittany said. "It was more than two years ago."

"But I still don't like her very much."

"I do!" Jamie entered the conversation. "She thought I was Brittany at the wedding reception and kept giving me cash and bottles of Cognac."

"What?" Brittany asked her sister. "Why would Rachel give you Cognac?"

"Maybe because I said, 'Yes, I'm Brittany and I'll forgive you if you give me all your Cognac,'" Jamie said. "I didn't know she'd actually do it."

"Well, that explains your subscription to the Cognac of the Month club," Santana said, solving the mystery of why brandy had been showing up on their doorstep for the last few months.

"Have you guys seen the BerryStew sex tape yet?" Jake asked out of the blue.

"Whoa, what?" Santana focused her attention on the guy.

"Yeah, it's pretty hot," he said while he forked some vegetables. "Grainy as hell, though."

"Bad quality, wasn't produced very well," Jamie added. "Lots of moaning. Sound quality wasn't too shabby."

"You saw it, too?" Brittany asked with a scowl.

"How do you think he did?" Jamie shot back while hooking her thumb toward Jake.

"When?" Santana inquired. "Rachel hasn't said anything about it."

"A couple of weeks ago."

Brittany looked to Santana with a snort, "I told you. I told you. I told you."

"I'm still not convinced," Santana said as she took another bite of her dinner.

"It was very convincing," Jake assured her. "It was pretty dark, but still convincing."

"It's Rachel, though," Santana argued. "Rachel's capable of faking it."

"Didn't sound like faking it," Paul commented. When everybody looked his way, he blushed a bit and said, "Somebody liked it on Facebook. I thought they were doing a singing vampire movie together. In fact, I was five minutes into it before I realized it wasn't a singing vampire movie."

"That's...just..ew, Dad," Brittany said. "I can't believe you watched it."

"He has a point, though," Jamie replied. "Rachel _was_ singing and KStew _was _biting her neck."

"And it was called Berry the Vampire Slayer," Susan said.

"Are you serious?" Santana scoffed. "Oh my god."

"You, too?" Brittany was shocked.

"They called it Berry the Vampire Slayer?" Santana shook her head.

"Okay, okay," Brittany had enough. "No more talking about Rachel's sex tape that apparently _everyone _has seen. That's so gross."

"She's hot," Jake said between bites of potato.

"Nice rack," Jamie added.

Paul washed down his dinner with a drink of water and then said, "She hit a couple high notes in there-"

"Alright," Susan said in warning. "As much as I don't like her, she is a friend of Santana and Brittany's, okay."

"Thank you, Mom."

The group was quiet for a several minutes before Susan said, "So, Britt, Santana, have you two given much thought to babies lately?"

"How high were those notes, Paul?" Santana asked.

#

After narrowly escaping dinner, the whole family sat around the living room exchanging boxes for gift opening time. Paul and Susan had already opened their gifts and were relaxing while the kids passed around the stuff they had gotten each other.

"James," Brittany got her sister's direction by waving a wrapped box in front of her, "This is for you."

After Jamie got the box opened she balled up the paper and threw it back at Brittany, "Ha!"

"What is it?" Paul asked.

"A t-shirt from the Cognac of the Month club," Jamie answered.

"Complimentary t-shirt," Brittany said. "You said we were giving free gifts this year. I also made you a Santana and Brittany Picture of the Month calendar."

"Oh, yeah," Jamie said looking under the shirt. She pulled out the calendar, which was just a bunch a paper that Brittany had stenciled some boxes onto and then glued pictures of her and and her wife on top. "This is hideous."

"You're welcome," Brittany sang.

"Which is why I got you a box of oxygen," Jamie said when she threw a nicely wrapped, but obviously empty box to her older sister. When the rest of the family gave her a look, she brushed it off, "I'm a broke college student, I had to steal the wrapping paper from Mom."

"This," Santana held up a small box, "is for you."

Brittany took it with a shy smile, "Thanks, honey," she said as she rattled it a couple of times. She delicately untied the bow and ripped the paper along the taped edges.

"Alright, babe," Santana said a little impatiently. "Building the suspense, here."

Finally Brittany lifted off the top and peered into the box. Santana could tell she didn't expect to see what she saw there. Brittany's face clouded with confusion for a only a second before she lifted out a silver keychain in the shape of a heart.

Brittany's eyes looked over to Santana's in question.

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah," Brittany answered. "I like...it."

"Good!" Santana said reaching out and spinning the heart around so Brittany could see the inscription.

"You are my home," the blonde read aloud. She smiled back up at her wife, "Aw, thanks baby...but..."

"Okay," Susan interrupted whatever was coming when she dropped a box in Santana's lap. "This one is from Paul, Jamie, and me."

"Oh!" Santana exclaimed after she ripped it open. "A sweater! With a reindeer! And it matches the rest of the family's!"

"You like it?" Susan beamed.

"I love it!"

Jamie coughed suddenly, which sounded a whole lot like 'liar,' but nobody paid her much attention.

Brittany leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek before whispering, "Thank you."

"Put it on!" Susan had already hopped up and was looking for her camera. "Santana you get to be in the middle, because it's your first time in the official Pierce Family Christmas Photo."

"The middle?" Santana asked. "Are you sure? I can stand behind Britt."

"Front and center," Paul said as he arranged her exactly where Susan had suggested. "You know these go on Christmas cards for next year, we have to show off our new member."

"So all mom and dad's old people friends will get to see you in your sweater," Jamie added. "Now you can feel the same shame as Britt and I. This is the true welcome to our family."

"Jake," Susan had located her camera and was motioning for the young man to take it. "Now that the girls are married, you're the photographer."

"That's an important job, Jake," Santana told him.

"I'll try to get everyone in frame," Jake teased. "Smile!"

When Santana felt Brittany's ghost along her back and rest on her hip, she couldn't help but do just that.

#

"Oh yeah," Brittany breathed in Santana's ear quietly. Controlled, even. Her wife had a hold of her hair and she gave it a tug with each thrust into her fingers. "Just like that..."

"Okay," Santana said a little less than enthusiastically. She pushed her hips up a little with the next thrust. But only a little.

Brittany stalled, her head snapped up to stare at the other woman, "What?"

"What?" Santana's head jerked backward. "Are you seriously asking me, 'What?'"

"Yeah. What?"

Santana opened her mouth and narrowed her eyes. She let out a puff of air meant to say, "Whaaaa the fuuuu?!"

Brittany was well aware of this. "Are you not into it? Because you're looking at me right now like you're not into it?"

Santana nearly choked on her annoyance. "Look at you!"

Brittany did so before saying, "You were the one giving me that-"

"What? What was I doing?"

"You were giving me that look!"

"What look?"

"The 'let's have sex' look!"

"You were doing that thing!"

"What thing?" Brittany asked, eyes wide.

"That sexy wink thing," Santana nearly yelled. "You said the raspberry tart was delicious and then you winked at me."

"That wasn't code for sex!"

"If that wasn't code for sex, then why are we out here?"

"You know how I feel about that look, Santana. You know and gave me the look anyway. And you know how I feel about," she lowered her voice, "_doing it_at my parents' house."

"Doing it?" Santana scoffed. "It's sex, Brittany. Fucking. Shagging. Humping. Bumping uglies. Playing rub-the-nub, Munching the Taco Supreme, Licking the Lollipop, Stroking the Sunspot, Grinding the Girl Hole."

Brittany dropped heavily on Santana's lap, "What the hell? That last one you _just _made up!"

"Maybe, maybe not, but at least I didn't say, _doing it_!"

"Saaannn..."

Santana took a breath. She wiggled around and got comfortable again. The bucket seats of Brittany's dad's old ass fucking car was not suitable for sex. Not sex with your _wife_. Maybe if she was 16, yeah. Maybe if she was fucking someone else's wife. But, this was ridiculous.

"Okay. Commence the sexing," the brunette said. She trailed her free hand up Brittany's bare thigh. "Shit, babe. Your legs are turning blue, aren't you cold?"

"Only from the waist down," Brittany said as she began to rock slowly.

Santana knew that this was serious business, but when she stopped to take in Brittany in her giant puffy winter coat, two scarves, and deerstalker hat, she couldn't help but chuckle.

"Santana!" Brittany ceased all movement again. "Quit fucking around."

"This is crazy," Santana said. "You're freezing. I'm freezing. We should go inside. Your parents _know _we have sex, Britt. We've lived together for two years. We've been married for six months, for fuck's sake."

"They _know_, but they don't have to _hear _it!"

"They wouldn't have to hear anything if you didn't wail like a banshee!"

"This coming from you!" Brittany snorted. She waved her hand around and mimicked Santana, "Oh Britty Baby! OH, fuck me harder! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Grind my girl hole!"

"Imma stop right there because I've never once said that during sex!" Why Santana felt the need to defend herself against that of all things, she'll never know.

"Because you _just _made it up, admit it!"

Santana sealed her lips tightly.

"Not gonna?"

"Come here," Santana motioned with her head.

Brittany leaned into her, resting her forehead on her wife's. "What?"

"I love you...so so so much. So much, that I'm sitting in your dad's 1980 Ford Piece-o-Shit, wearing a reindeer sweater that your mom knitted and slowly becoming a human ice cube."

"I love you, too," Brittany said. "And I'd love you even more if you'd get me off before I lose my legs to frostbite."

"When you ask so nicely..."

"Santana!"

"Okay, okay," Santana said before capturing Brittany's lips with her own.

Santana's right hand moved to tangle in Brittany's hair before landing on the back of her neck and pulling her wife in for a deeper kiss. Santana had to consciously shove the idea of the furry part of Brittany's deerstalker hat rubbing against her forehead, but once she was able to, it was on. Santana found a rhythm to Brittany's liking as the blonde found a balance on her knees over Santana's lap the cold leather of the backseat.

"That's it, baby!" Brittany yelled and Santana silently hoped that nobody came rushing out to see what the ruckus was about. "So good! So good! Yeah!" Brittany progressively got louder.

Santana kicked it up a notch, pumping quickly in and out while Brittany matched her each time by grinding downward. As Brittany got closer and closer, she blindly grabbed Santana's hair again. She tugged harder and harder as she ground down on Santana. When she did come, she had nearly pulled Santana sideways in the seat.

"Oh god, honey, I'm so sorry," Brittany said when she realized.

Santana shook it off as she straightened back up, "It's okay. I was watching you. You're so unbelievably sexy. Even when you're dressed like that," Santana gestured up and down.

"Mm, your turn," Brittany said as seductively as she could through chattering teeth. "Take your pants off."

"Oh, no no no. Not a chance, babe," Santana replied. "With my luck, your tongue would stick to my clit and your dad would have to come out here and throw hot water on us."

As they trekked as quietly as possible back up the stairs and down the hallway to the guest room, Santana heard a rather peculiar sound coming from Jamie's room.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Santana whispered, though pretty loudly.

"What?" Brittany asked a few steps ahead.

"Your sister is totally having sex," Santana said. "In the fucking house."

"Ew, stop listening," Brittany tried to shake the thought out.

"Sex in the house, Britt! So unfair!"

"C'mon," Brittany waved. "So what?"

"So? We just had sex in a car in below freezing temperatures." Santana's feathers were becoming increasingly ruffled. "And we're _married_. That guy's like the flavor of the winter or some shit. She'll dump him before next semester."

"San!" the blonde whispered yelled. Brittany looked her in the eye, even in the dark she saw the mischievous gleam. She knew exactly what was coming without even having to ask, so she took off to their room on her tiptoes so she could at least get the door open in preparation.

Lo and behold, a few seconds later she heard three very loud knocks and Santana's faux deep voice yelling, "Get off my daughter, you fucking punk!"

#

It was pretty much hilarious the next morning when Santana and Brittany made it to breakfast and Jake had already hit the highway.

"Where's your boy toy?" Santana asked slyly as she dropped into her seat at the table.

Jamie didn't even bother with an answer to that question, instead she went straight for the jugular, "Dad, did Britt and Santana tell you they went for a ride in your Cutlass last night?"

"Oh yeah?" Paul turned his attention to Brittany and Santana.

"They went to Poundtown," Jamie said around a biscuit she just shoved in her mouth.

Paul's eyebrows furrowed, but Susan asked, "Did you girls see the Christmas lights? They're so beautiful up that way."

"The lights were great, Mom," Brittany said as she shot a look to her sister. "Best lights I've seen in a while."

"What did you think, Santana?" Susan said as she spread some jam on her biscuit.

"Definitely good lights," the brunette replied. "I was driving, so I was focused on the...road, but Brittany enjoyed the lights very much."

"Did you go down...south?" Jamie asked, looking as innocent as she could be.

"Nope," Brittany answered. "I wanted to, but Santana wasn't into...all the lights. She cut our drive a little short."

"You don't like the lights?" Susan asked, sounding nearly offended by her audacity.

"I love the lights," Santana answered quickly. "Love 'em. Really. I just...felt it was a little chilly to be out looking at the lights that time of night."

"Oh, I understand," Susan nodded. "Maybe we can all go tonight."

"Oh, let's," Jamie said with a grin. "Britt and San can show us where they went last night."

"Great idea, Jamie," Susan agreed.

After breakfast was done and the dishes had been cleared, all the Pierce women scattered to do whatever it was the Pierce women did. That left Santana and Paul sitting a little uncomfortably at the table with steaming cups of coffee. It was a little odd because the two of them usually didn't have many awkward encounters that didn't involve getting caught sucking on his daughter's face.

"Sorry we didn't ask before we took the Cutlass last night, Papa Pierce," Santana said to him, feeling a little guilty about his silence for most of the morning.

Paul smirked at her, "Santana, that car hasn't started in over a year."

Santana's eyes widened and she swallowed hard.

"You got rid of that damn boy," Paul said sipping on his coffee. "I'd say we're even."

Santana's mouth moved like she was trying to form words for a few moments before Brittany came to her rescue by skipping into the kitchen. She stopped behind her dad, placing her hands on his shoulders but addressing her wife.

"James and I thought it might be fun to do a little sledding, whatcha think?"

The twinkle in Brittany's eye made it nearly impossible to turn down such an adventure. Plus, she could get away from this incredibly awkward situation. "Sure," Santana answered.

"Thanks for letting us borrow the car last night, Dad," Brittany said as she gave Paul a kiss on the cheek. When she looked back up Santana was shaking her head sharply.

"You're very welcome, Sugar Cookie," Paul said evenly. "But Santana, here, already thanked me."

#

Sledding proved to be way more about trudging through the snow than doing any kind of actual sledding. It quickly became a snowball war between Santana and Jamie with Brittany doing her best to referee. They took turns pelting each other while the other traveled down the modest hill unarmed. All in all, it was good times.

"Really appreciate that shit with your dad this morning!" Santana said as she released a particularly hard-thrown snowball.

"And I appreciate you scaring the crap outta Jake," Jamie said. "He was gone before sunrise."

"I did you a favor."

"Believe me when I say, you did me absolutely no favors," Jamie said with a menacing glare.

"Oh, ouch. Sorry 'bout that," Santana laughed.

"Yeah." Jamie packed a snow ball and tossed it in Santana's direction.

"You shouldn't be humping boys in the house anyway," Brittany pointed out.

"Oh, shut it!" Jamie threw a ball in her direction as well. "Like you didn't."

"I most certainly did not!"

"Girls, Britt," Jamie corrected.

"I most certainly did...do that," Brittany said.

"What?" Santana was scandalized. "You...what?"

"It was high school, honey," Brittany said.

"I don't care when it was," Santana clarified. "I thought you had some life-long moral stance against fucking under your parents' roof."

"I do..."

"She doesn't," Jamie said, hitting them both with simultaneously thrown snowballs.

"I had to put heat packs on my nipples, Britt!"

"I'm going to have to put bleach in my brain, Santana!" Jamie complained.

"Shut up!" Brittany directed at her sister. She then took a few tentative steps toward her wife, "Honey," she said sweetly and fluttered her eyelashes. "I was young when I did that. That was about being young and rebellious. I haven't since college, it feels disrespectful somehow."

"I do it all the time," Jamie said.

"See," Brittany pointed at the younger girl. "James does it all the time. That proves it's disrespectful."

"Heat pack. Nipples." Santana said after a deep breath. "But I understand. So it's okay."

"Really?"

"Really," the brunette said. "Now smooch me."

Santana nearly got her smooch when one giant snowball hit the both of them in the face.

When Brittany got a call from Holly back in Seattle a little while later, she had to take it. Holly had finally returned was her "religious sabbatical" and was trying to catch up on almost a year of dealings.

"You guys please don't kill each other," Brittany asked of them before she answered her phone and started to walk off in the direction of a nearby tree stump.

"I can't promise anything," both Santana and Jamie answered in unison.

When Britt was far enough away, Jamie swatted at Santana's arm, "I heard about the big gift."

"Oh?" Santana said quickly trying to gauge Jamie's reaction.

"Yeah. She's really going to love it."

"I hope so," Santana watched her snow boots make footprints for a few steps before asking, "Are you okay with that?"

"Me? Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Just checking," Santana said glancing up at her. "I didn't want to step on any toes or anything."

"My toes are fine," Jamie replied. "The 'rents thought it was the most awesome thing you've ever done. Which is saying a lot, because they're just as in love as Britt."

"Shut up!"

"It's true," Jamie rolled her eyes. "Not only do I have to follow up Wonder Sister, I have to find someone to follow up Super Santana. It blows."

Santana laughed. "You don't have to follow up anything, Jamie."

"Sure."

"You don't!"

"Uh huh," Jamie shuffled along.

"Whatever," Santana gave her attitude right back. "Your family is the best. Your parents adore you. Britt loves you to death...even I do."

"You do what?" Jamie glanced up quickly.

"I love you, James," Santana said using Brittany's nickname for her little sister. "You know I do."

"Yeah," Jamie smiled that evil smile she used when she got the best of someone. "I know. I just can't believe you admitted it, sucker."

"You're an evil bitch."

"Yeah, so are you," Jamie said with a wink and threw her arm around Santana's shoulders pulling in her for a hug. And then promptly dropped a snowball down her shirt.

#

Later that night, their last night in Colorado, Jamie and Brittany sat in the Pierce living room doing their ritual "waiting for Santa" night by the Christmas tree. Now that they were adults, it was basically just drinking hot cocoa and bullshitting, though. Paul and Susan had long since gone to bed and left them to their own devices. Santana was upstairs taking a shower, but Brittany suspected she also made a few phone calls to make sure everything at work was running smoothly while she was away.

"I can't believe you won't be here for Christmas, Britt," Jamie said as she stretched her long legs out over Brittany's lap. "It sucks."

Brittany looked both ways before very quietly agreeing, "It does suck, James. It's the first Christmas ever I won't be with Mom and Dad."

"I mean, I get it, but it sucks," Jamie repeated. "Mom doesn't like it at all."

"I know," Brittany sighed.

"Dad doesn't either, but he's not going to say anything."

"Yeah, I know. But, we promised Santana's mom we'd be there this year," Brittany said leaning her head against the back of the couch. "And I feel bad that we always seem to do holidays here. It's not really fair."

"It is kinda far away," Jamie shrugged.

"That's not a good excuse," Brittany said as she picked her mug off the table.

"Maybe not, but it's understandable."

Brittany quirked her lip, "Compromises, James."

"Yeah, but-"

"She quit her job, picked up her life, and moved to Seattle for me," Brittany cut her off. "Overnight."

"You're right," Jamie said.

"I know I am." Brittany leaned over to set her mug back on the table and saw Santana hanging out in the hallway. "Hey!"

"Am I interrupting?" Santana said sheepishly when she found she'd been caught. "I can give you two..."

"No, baby, c'mon in," Brittany said patting the space beside her.

Jamie didn't miss the way Brittany seemed to burst with joy. She hadn't missed it since the first time she'd seen them together.

"Take your rightful place for cocoa time, Cinnabunns."

"Hey," Santana pointed menacingly. "Only one person gets away with that, and it ain't you."

"You can share mine," Brittany said with a smile. She waited until Santana had snuggled in next to her and then announced. "And I could get away with it if I wanted."

"She's got you there," Jamie agreed.

"You could call me Cinnabunns," Santana said wrapping her arms around her wife.

"What about honeybunns?"

"Sugartits?"

"Stop!" Jamie exclaimed as pulled her feet away from Brittany.

"What?" Santana asked her. "We're just messing with you, you big baby."

"Seeing you mack on my sister is disturbing," Jamie said. "Don't get me wrong, you're adorable. I can't stand that you're so adorable. You're so in love that I want to hug you forever while simultaneously projectile vomiting."

"Please don't do that," Brittany said.

"Yeah, let's not." Santana agreed.

"I'm going to miss you," Jamie said. "It won't feel like Christmas without you...either of you."

"Aww, thanks James," Brittany smiled at her little sister. "We'll miss you, too."

The next morning as Santana and Brittany loaded up for Jamie, who surprisingly volunteered, to deliver them back to the airport, Pierce embraces were running rampant.

The two Pierce daughters had already climbed into the car, when Susan grabbed Santana's arm and slipped something into her hand.

Santana looked at the family portrait they had just taken. "Oh, thanks!" she said.

"Good looking family, I have there," Susan admired it alongside her.

"I agree," Santana smiled.

"You make her very happy, you know."

"I do know that," the brunette answered. "Almost as happy as she makes me."

"You two be careful, call us when you get to New York."

"Of course."

"And," Susan beamed. "Make sure she calls us when you give her your gift."

"I won't be able to stop her," Santana said. She held up the picture, "Thanks. For this and everything else."


	2. Chapter 2

**1770 Miles From Colorado Springs to New York**

Santana figured they were probably somewhere over Illinois the first time Brittany's head shot off her shoulder. The blonde's eyes danced around for a second before registering where she was again.

"Halfway to New York, babe," Santana told her when Brittany finally looked her way.

"Okay," Brittany said into a yawn. She laid her head back down and nearly had her eyes closed before they focused on Santana's phone. "What are you doing?"

Santana, who was busy thumbing through pictures, answered, "Looking for something."

"Looking for what?"

"A picture."

"Yee-aah," Brittany said. "I figured that. What picture specifically?"

"I'm not sure," Santana said, moving her thumb at rapid speed.

"Then how are you going to know when you find it?"

"I'll know it if I see it."

"So you do know."

"I know what I'm looking for, yes," Santana told her. "I just..."

"Wait, stop," Brittany said quickly. She reached over and tilted the phone in her direction. "Why do you have so many pictures of me sleeping?"

"Um," Santana looked at the close-up of Brittany's face. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open just a smidgen, and her bangs had fallen over her face. She was most definitely sleeping, evident by the tiny amount of drool pooled at the corner of her mouth. "I dunno."

"Do you take a lot of pictures of me sleeping?" Brittany was amused. Santana hated when Brittany caught her doing something embarrassingly cute. She would roll her eyes and pout and come up with some really lame excuse like...

"It's probably from the time I tried to catch you snoring and I accidentally took a picture instead of recording."

"Oh," Brittany nodded. "Because I saw like 25 pictures of me sleeping in there. Different clothes, different lighting. Was that a project you were working on for a while?"

"You snore a lot. It's loud...and snore-y."

"Hm," Brittany said laughing silently. "So where's the video?"

"I told you," Santana seemed affronted by the line of questioning, "I accidentally took a picture."

"Every time, San?"

"...Sometimes I take pictures of you while you sleep, okay?" Santana let out a frustrated breath. "There, I said it."

"Thank you. That wasn't so hard," Brittany's head fell back on Santana's shoulder. "It is pretty creepy, though."

"Yeah, you're sleeping with the enemy...literally," Santana said as she started thumbing through the photos again.

"Hey!" Brittany said enthusiastically as she tapped on the screen. "Me and the Troll!"

"Then I must be getting close."

"These are from when you first moved to Seattle," Brittany mentioned as Santana slowed to smile at the many two-shot self-portraits in front of numerous Seattle landmarks.

"Yep," Santana said. "You remember that weekend you took me everywhere in town that you loved?"

"Sure."

"And you took me down to Beacon Hill?"

"Yep," Brittany said with a smile.

"I couldn't remember if we took a picture of us there or not," Santana filled her in. "We took a picture of us everywhere else, though, so I figured it was worth a shot."

"I think we did," Brittany sat up in her seat.

Another brush of Santana's thumb, and there it was. Brittany and Santana, two years younger, standing in front of a house that was barely in the picture at all. Santana was obviously holding her phone out to snap the picture while she kissed a smiling Brittany's cheek. The silver pole of an umbrella just on the other side of the blonde's face.

"Found it." Santana said almost to herself.

"Damn, we're cute," Brittany noted as she rested in her usual in-flight spot once again. "We looked really good together even back then."

"I don't think there's going to be a time when we don't," Santana told her.

"Take one now."

"Now?"

"Yeah, now," Brittany urged her.

"K," Santana held up her phone and snapped a quick photo.

When she brought it back down to study it, Brittany said, "See, we look really good together."

"We do," the brunette agreed. She looked at their smiling faces for a few minutes. They really did look good together. Santana was pretty certain that no two people in the history of the world looked as good or as right together as her and her wife.

The next time Santana looked over, Brittany was fast asleep again. She held out her phone and snapped another picture.

"I saw that," Brittany mumbled.

"I love you."

"You, too, creep."

#

There were definitely perks to staying friends with Rachel Berry after 'The Unfortunate Incident.' That, by the way, is how Rachel referred to it. She didn't speak about the details of 'The Unfortunate Incident' often because it was a violation of the terms of their settlement. Mostly, Rachel was prohibited from ever mentioning that her lips touched Santana's face. She was forced to buy every copy of every magazine that had published it and burn them in what Santana referred to as 'The Cleansing Ritual.' Rachel was extremely apologetic about the whole situation, though. Even after two years had gone by.

Which is why Santana wasn't surprised in the least when they were picked up from the airport by Figgins. It was a little surprising that he was holding a big white sign that said "Lesbians." Probably not his best choice, because as Santana and Brittany approached he was explaining to a nice couple with flattops that he was picking a specific pair of lesbians, not just cruising for random ones.

It was also pretty great when Figgins took them to hotel where they were booked in a luxury suite on Rachel Berry's dime, of course. Suspicions were barely raised at all when Figgins told them that their usual guest room at Rachel's was closed for renovation. And the perks were still looking pretty damn good when the two exited the hotel to find Rachel's chauffeur waiting to whisk them to the Golden Ticket's Manhattan Palace.

When, they entered Rachel's newly deemed Party Room Central however, Santana was suddenly reminded there were definite downfalls to still being friends with Rachel Berry.

A scantily clad dancing Santa man greeted them immediately with some particularly pronounced pelvic thrusts in Santana's direction. "Ho! Ho!"

"Holy Shit," Santana said as she took a long look around.

There were candy cane stripper poles on one side of the room. Several people in different stages of undress were serving drinks. Those drinks were coming from the Winter Wonderland Booze Bar set up in the corner. The floor was covered in some type of white foam and to top it all off, a massive Star of David was hanging from the ceiling. It was twirling like a disco ball and shooting confetti in the shape, of course, the Star of David.

Brittany clutched Santana's arm after taking in the scene and said simply, "Not the reason for the Season."

"Welcome to Rachel's Holiday Extravaganza!" Kurt yelled when he spotted them. He weaved his way through the crowd and gave each of them an excited hug. "Isn't this amazing?" he asked as he presented the party with all the flair of Elton John taking the stage for an encore. He then adjusted his bedazzled yarmulke.

"I thought this was supposed to be a small, intimate gathering," Santana said over the music.

He gave her a strange look in return, "Who told you that?"

"Rachel!"

Kurt ignored Santana's obvious annoyance and regarded Brittany, "Look at you, you look good enough to eat."

"You're lookin' good yourself," Brittany said checking out his festive outfit. She gave him a motion to twirl, which he did excitedly. "Sexy and elfish!"

"Thanks, Britt," he winked.

"Look who finally decided to arrive!" Rachel appeared as if from thin air. "Beiste saw you two come in from her station in the safe room."

"Good to know Beiste is on the job," Santana said then looked for the nearest red light and waved.

"Brittany," Rachel turned the the blonde and pulled a bottle of Cognac from behind her back, "I brought you something from the private collection of a French aristocrat."

"Thanks Rachel, but-"

"We'll take it, thanks," Santana butted in and grabbed the offered bottle. She looked at Brittany and whispered, "We might need it later."

"You're here!" the women heard Sam as he elbowed his way through the throngs of dancing people. "We've been waiting for you two to show."

At just the sight of him, Santana pulled desperately at the cork of the bottle in her hands.

"Where've you been?" Kurt asked him.

"Oh, I was dancing with the strippers on the candy cane poles. Brings back memories," Sam said as he gave Brittany a quick hug and took a step toward Santana.

She stopped him with the bottle, "Get this open, would ya?"

"Right now?" he asked. "You just got here."

"Yep," she answered curtly. "Thanks."

He faltered for a second before taking the alcohol and stuttering an, "O-Okay."

The other three people in the circle sort of awkwardly stared between them. Finally, Sam started in the opposite direction, bottle in hand.

"I'll join you," Kurt called after him. He stopped to give Santana a questioning look before making his own way through the crowd.

Santana's wife was giving her a similar look. "I was thirsty," she said to the blonde.

"Sure, you were," Brittany answered. Santana couldn't hear it, but she was fairly certain that's what she said.

"Intimate gathering?" Santana asked Rachel.

"It was meant to be just a few. Kurt and Samuel. My staff is here. Arthur, Kelly, and the retching girl I can never find."

"Wretched?" Brittany asked, feeling proud that she detected a misused word.

"No, retching," Rachel answered. "Unfortunately, the news was leaked online. So then, of course, I had to invite everyone who may have seen the invitations."

"Huh?" Santana questioned her. "That makes no sense."

"That's how Quinn got invited."

"Quinn?"

"Quinn," Rachel nodded. "And, of course, you know who."

"Speaking of you know who," Santana said loudly as she got bumped from several partying folks, "We heard about your sex tape."

"Heard?" Rachel seemed disappointed. "I have a copy in the media room if you want to see it. It's all ready to go on the projector."

"No!" Brittany shook her head emphatically. "I mean, no thanks. I'd rather not."

"There you are," Santana heard the familiar tones of one Quinn Fabray behind her. "I wondered where you had disappeared to."

"I told you I was coming out to greet San-" Rachel started.

"Santana." Quinn put her hand on the woman's shoulder and looked her ex-girlfriend over. "Nice to see you."

"Sure," Santana said to her.

"I never did have a chance to tell you how beautiful the wedding was."

"Thank you," Rachel answered before either Santana or Brittany got the chance. "When my original Broadway theme didn't work out, we had to do a last minute change. Love of the Distantly Challenged. Turns out it was a suitable back up."

"What is she talking about?" Brittany said into Santana's ear.

Santana just shook her at head while still staring at Rachel.

Rachel continued, "It was featured in In Style's Celebrity Weddings edition."

"No, it wasn't," Santana said.

"And very few people know this, but I introduced them." Rachel went on without even acknowledging the comment.

"No, you didn't."

"Brittany was in town for an advertising convention-"

"Quinn knows the story of how we met, Rachel," Santana finally stopped her.

"Fine," Rachel stomped. "Excuse me for trying to punch it up a little. A wrong number love story? Nobody's ever gonna buy that."

"It was beautiful, nonetheless," Quinn said while looking at Santana. "You made a beautiful bride. And the ceremony was...beautiful."

"Thanks," Santana said while pulling Brittany closer.

As an afterthought, Quinn added, "You, too, Brittany."

"Yeah, thanks," Brittany said as she draped a possessive arm over Santana's shoulder.

"Carl thought so, too," Quinn shared. "But now, we're divorced, so I don't know what he thinks about anything anymore."

"Oh." Santana eyebrow quirked up. "I hadn't heard."

"You hadn't?" Quinn glanced to Rachel. "I'm surprised."

"Well, Rachel had yet to mention her sex tape, so I'm not. She always starts with herself before she gets to anyone else."

"Bad news for KStew," Brittany said loud enough for only Santana to hear.

"That's true," Rachel admitted. "But I'm working on being more charitable. I finally saw that Sarah MacLachlan commercial and was so moved that I adopted a lioness. Her name is Shasta. She likes mutton and long walks in her simulated habitat."

"And people wonder why I fled 3000 miles to get away from you," Santana muttered.

"But even more exciting, Quinn," Rachel placed her hand on Quinn's forearm, "recently moved back to New York."

"Newly divorced and back in the city!" Quinn gave Santana a predatory grin. Probably even more than predatory than ol' Shasta gave Rachel.

Before Santana could call her out on it, Sam was wrangling his way back into their presence. He handed over Santana's glass of Cognac, "For you."

Foregoing any sort of thanks, Santana just downed it. "Whoa!"

"I think you're supposed to...experience that...or something," Kurt said as he caught up.

"Brittany?" Rachel looked to her for Cognac expertise.

"Uh," Brittany looked to Rachel then Santana. "Yeah, honey, you probably should have hand-warmed that and then sampled just a bit on your palette." When Santana gave her a look, she just shrugged. "I read the manual that came with my first Cognac of the Month."

"You need another?" Sam asked.

Santana handed in glass over to him in answer.

"I'm going to go get a drink, too," Brittany told her. She dipped her head to give Santana a kiss on the lips before saying, "I'll be back in a few."

"I need to go find you-know-who," Rachel said, standing on her tiptoes which didn't help her one bit. "Quinn?"

Quinn did a double take, "What?"

"C'mon," Rachel pulled her elbow.

"I was going to catch up."

Rachel pulled a bit harder, "Santana's married, you're divorced. Everyone's caught up."

Santana watched her old friend pull her ex-girlfriend through the crowd. Sometimes Rachel wasn't so bad.

"I knew I should've told you," Kurt said as he leaned in further so he didn't have to shout.

He startled Santana a bit before she yelled, "Told me what?"

"You know what," Kurt said pointedly. "I know what you're thinking."

"You don't know what I'm thinking."

"I do," Kurt said confidently. "And it's not the same thing. My relationship with Sam is not yours with Brittany, okay."

"No," Santana said quickly. "It's certainly not the same thing."

"Hey, now," Kurt nudged her.

"It's been a year," the brunette reminded him.

"And I'll say it again, we're not the same as you and Britt. There's no way in hell I'm moving to Seattle, no offense, and he doesn't seem to be in a big hurry to move to New York."

"Seattle's pretty great," Santana felt the need to defend her current hometown.

"You have Brittany blinders, so of course you would say that."

"Hey, now," Santana gave Kurt a similar nudge.

"How's work?"

"Really?" Santana shot him a look. "How's work?"

"Fair question," Kurt shrugged. "We haven't talked about it in a while."

"I still like it, Kurt," she said. "I'm not crawling back to Rachel anytime soon. Although, she should get somebody else. I can't believe Kitty let her get sex-taped."

"That was on purpose," Kurt admitted. "Kitty came up with the idea of making, marketing, and profiting from it. She says it's revolutionary."

"Revolutionary?" Santana scoffed. "If that's revolutionary, then she failed spectacularly."

"It was also supposed to further their celebridating credibility, which is already furthered by the fact that they are actually dating."

Santana just shook her head, "Damn, Brittany totally called that."

Kurt laughed, "Who didn't after that beach house, sex hair pic?"

"She really needs to fire Kitty, tell her that."

"She really needs you."

"Nope."

"It was your calling."

Santana rolled her eyes, "I'm doing the same thing except I make a whole lot more people look good for a whole lot less money."

"You know Rachel would give you double what you used to make."

"I'm happy where I am," Santana said. "Brittany's happy. She's practically running New Directions. She loves it. We're not going anywhere unless she decides she wants to. End of discussion."

"So, you're really settling in then?"

"I really am, Kurt."

#

An hour or so later, the party was in full swing. Rachel had graced the stage and sang a whopping rendition of 'Mary, Did You Know?' followed immediately by The Dreidel Song. Brittany was swaying to the sweet sounds of Rachel's melodic voice when she heard another not so melodic.

"Hi there, Brittany." Quinn gave her a bright Fabray smile over her wine glass. "I just realized I didn't congratulate you after the wedding. You know, for snagging such a hot commodity."

Brittany gave her an uncharacteristic tight smile, "Uh...thanks."

"It was a lovely reception. Carl went on and on about how lovely it was. Then, a few weeks later, he filed for divorce."

"I..." Brittany thought for a second. "It was a great reception. And an incredible night-"

"You're quite the dancer," Quinn smirked.

Brittany nodded, "I used to dance, um, when I was younger."

"Oh? I don't know if Santana ever mentioned that."

"I don't know if Santana ever mentioned that to you either, I'm not sure why she would," Brittany twisted the ring on her finger and looked quickly to see if her wife was close by.

"So how's married life?"

"Great!" Brittany grinned from ear to ear, still glancing around the room. "We're so, so, _so_ happy."

"That's wonderful," Quinn said, then her smile fell. "Mine didn't fare so well. Carl and I are divorced."

"Yeah, yeah," Brittany nodded. "You mentioned that before. When we first came in and just a minute ago..."

"Did I?"

"You did."

"Oh, well," Quinn took a large drink of wine. "It's kind of my most recent news."

"Obviously," Brittany said still searching. When she spotted her, she quickly made her exit from Quinn by awkwardly saying, "Later."

She crossed the room quickly, coming up behind her wife and resting her head on Santana's shoulder. The drink in Santana's hand sloshed a bit before she regained her balance

"Thank god, I found you." Brittany whispered.

"Why?"

"I had to get away from her."

"What? Who?" Santana gave the room a cursory look. "Quinn?"

"She makes me uncomfortable."

"Why?" Santana turned to face her. "Did she say something to you? Do you want me to slap her? I've been looking for a reason."

"No," Brittany shook her head. "No, no." She contemplated that again for a second before saying, "No, really. She just...she always gives me the 'I was there before you' look."

"Babe, she may have been there before you, but you made _there_ forget she ever existed."

The smile graced Brittany's lips quickly, "Really?"

"Really."

"Aw," the blonde leaned in for quick peck on Santana's lips. "I feel better."

"You have nothing to worry about," Santana assured her as she took another drink of her Cognac. "I wouldn't have sex with Quinn again even if she had three million dollars shoved up her vagina."

"One: Three million dollars is a lot of money, don't exaggerate. I'd sleep with her for that much. Two: I'm not worried," Brittany waved it off. "But she's made a point of bringing up her divorce like 43 times, so-"

"What? Quinn's _divorced_?" Santana blurted. "That changes things!"

"Ha!"

"So what?" The brunette said. "Quinn's divorced. Yay. Whoo. Alert the papers. Film at eleven. Who gives a fuck? I don't."

"You really don't?" Brittany angled her head to catch Santana's eyes. "Because she kinda left you for him, right?"

Santana shrugged, "Yeah, I guess so," she said noncommittally.

"So there isn't a tiny part of you that's like..."

"That lousy bitch got what was coming to her?" Santana said it like a question.

"Well, I was going to say validated, but then I wondered if the word I wanted to use was really vindicated," Brittany's brow furrowed. "Then violated came to mind, but I knew that wasn't right at all."

"I guess...but, really, I...I'm sorry it didn't work out for her," Santana replied.

"Okay." Brittany took Santana's word for it, "That's very adult of you."

"Well, she's divorced and I have a smoking hot wife and I'm deliriously happy. Kicking her while she's down is just mean. I'm not entirely above that, I may initiate a drunken sloppy makeout sesh later, but it's mean."

"That's the wife I know," Brittany smiled.

"And you're right. Three million is a lot of money," Santana admitted. "I'd take her vagina money."

"We could buy a house with her vagina money!"

Santana agreed by holding up her glass. When she did, the dancing Santa appeared. "Need another?" he asked, wiggling his hips.

"Yeah thanks," the brunette said as she accepted the glass but took a few steps away pulling Brittany with her.

Sometime soon after, Santana had lost Brittany to Kurt's insistence that they go dance hard enough to make sweet baby Jesus cry. He meant that literally, too. There was a little person walking around in swaddling clothes with a sash that said 'Sweet Baby Jesus.' She looked out over the crowd and sure enough, her wife was moving her sexy body in ways that should be illegal in all fifty states and less progressive parts of Europe.

She felt a cold shadow cover her before she could react fast enough to get away.

Sam shook a glass of alcohol just in front her in offering before saying, "My therapist says you're mean to me because my relationships with the important people in your life are threatening to you."

"Oh, really?" Santana said. "Well, Sam, that could be true. Or, it's possible that I'm mean to you because you're a wide-mouthed dumbass."

"Santana, I know that isn't you saying these things."

"It's me."

"No, it's not, it's the natural competition we've formed from having such close relationships with each other's close relationships."

"It's me, Sam."

"No."

"It's me. And if you say it isn't me one more time, I'll rip your lips off and beat the hell out of you with them. Are we clear?"

"Clear."

"Good." Santana watched him dejectedly take a step backwards before her conscience kicked in. "Wait, wait."

Sam looked up hopefully, "Yeah?"

Santana took a deep breath, "Lately, I feel like you're invading my space and I don't like it. I come home from work and your braiding my wife's hair. I talk to Kurt on the phone and he suddenly has to go because 'Sam is calling.' You're always there. On my couch. Or my wife is telling a funny Sam story or my best friend is telling me about the cute picture you sent him. It drives me crazy. It shouldn't, because believe or not, I genuinely like you. But, I'm not going to lie and say you don't irritate the fuck out of me right now."

The man awkwardly shifted not knowing what to say to that.

"I often imagine hitting you with a blunt object," Santana went on. "I've been having this recurring dream about watching you get trampled to death by running bulls in Pamplona."

"That sounds...painful."

"Yeah, and I'm sorry about that," Santana said. "Kind of. If it makes you feel any better, Brittany and Kurt are both very upset in the dream, of course. But I buy Kurt a pinstriped zoot suit and Brittany's always better after a round of incredibly satisfying lesbian sex, sooo..."

"I appreciate you being honest with me."

"Oh, you know I keep it real," Santana replied. "Just stand to the side for the next couple of months and we'll work through it, no problem. Well, you'll work through it in therapy. I'll work through by buying a rep bag and having your face laser printed onto it. Might cost extra for the lips, but it's probably worth it."

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "You know, though..."

Santana took a healthy swig of her drink and then focused her attention on him. "Go ahead."

"I have been around your apartment a lot more lately," Sam said hesitantly. " And I knew it irritated you."

"I haven't been subtle."

"No, you're never very subtle," Sam agreed. "Especially last week, when I brought over Thai and you threatened to "Thai" me down and noodle me to death."

"That threat still stands."

"You know why, though." Sam told her. "It feels like everything's about to change...and...she's my best friend, Santana."

"She's my best friend, too, Sam." Santana took a step toward him. "And my wife. And my everything. And my heart. And my fucking soul. I would give up everything for her. You know what, I have. I would give her anything she wanted, which is what I'm doing. I'm not taking her away from you, we're moving on with our lives. I'm not going to apologize for that."

"I'm not asking you to."

"You should focus on you own shit, Samuel," Santana gave him a poke in the chest. "Instead of crying on our couch, you should decide what you really want."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I know Kurt's asked you to move."

"Oh," Sam said. "I didn't know you knew."

"Yeah, I know," she bit back. "If you really wanted to be with him as much as you say, while you're eating my low calorie Mint Chocolate Chip in my apartment shooting the shit with my wife, then you'd just do it."

"Hey," Sam said with as much force. "I'm not you, okay. I'm not perfect like Santana. I can't just drop everything and be his knight in shining armor."

Santana gave him her best humorless smile, "No, Sam, you're definitely not me."

"My two favorite people!" Brittany exclaimed as she danced up to them. "What are you two discussing so seriously over here?"

"Nothing serious," Sam said before Santana could answer. "I'm gonna find Kurt."

They both watched him walk away before Brittany gave Santana the look that meant 'I know something's going on.'

"Nothing's going on."

"I didn't say that," Brittany said.

"You thought it."

"You only think I thought it because something's going on."

"I'm going to get another drink, you want one?"

Brittany shook her head, but caught Santana by her pinky before she walked away. "You okay?"

"Yeah, babe."

As Santana turned again, she nearly got her toes rolled over by Artie.

"Watch it, Tool!" she shouted at him.

"Sorry," he told her.

"Fuck off," Santana snarled at him before leaving.

"She's still really mean," Artie told Brittany when Santana was a safe distance away from him.

"She's not mean," Brittany argued. "She just hates you. She thinks your a barnacle on the hull of Rachel's big ass cruise ship of popularity."

"I'm sure it's not that bad."

"Yes, it is," Brittany replied. "Those were her exact words."

"Oh," Artie gulped. "How's New Directions without me?"

"Great!" Brittany beamed. "Holly just got back from...doing things that I don't even like to think about, Blaine's gone on what he says is a mission trip, Will is having a baby with that Starbucks lady Terri. Don't tell him, but she's really strange. She keeps asking if her tummy looks lumpy. It kinda does. Oh, and Sugar made all her money back. It was really weird, like she just realized she had invested in Microsoft..."

"So nobody misses me?"

"Nope," Brittany said honestly. "Some other really geeky dude just slid right into your spot."

"Well, at least tell me about all the proj-"

Artie stopped speaking when he realized Brittany had just walked away.

#

Santana did find her drink as the dancing Santa approached her with a glass and more thrusting. By this time, Santana had quite a bit to drink and she'd also had quite enough of that joker.

"Listen," she said to him. "I'm a certified lesbian, okay. I like the vag. A lot. I have a wife...with a vag. A nice one. So, if you come over here swinging your jingle bells in my face again, I'm going to kick you, capiche?"

He suddenly stopped thrusting. "K."

"There's a guy here, though. Big lips. Looks dumb. He loves bells in his face."

When dancing Santa's face lit up, she felt good about herself. Good enough that she deserved a reward. She slipped up the stairs and jimmied the lock to Rachel's private study. And just as she always did, Rachel had all the good shit hidden in a secret safe behind a portrait of her posing on her prized pony.

There was nothing quite like the view of the city from Rachel's balcony. As Santana looked out across the skyline, she couldn't believe she took it for granted when she had access. In Seattle, she was too distracted with Brittany and work and being content with the happy little life she never knew she wanted to care much about the views, though. Content, not complacent, she had explained to her mother. Then again to Brittany when she overheard the conversation.

It had been one of those nights, though. She knew it would be. It was one of those nights she caught a glimpse of the person she used to be. All the ingredients were there: a raging party, Kurt trying to figure out his love life, Quinn, and the view of the city, her city, from off Rachel's balcony. She raised the bottle of Cristal to her lips and took several gulps, then took a couple puffs of the cigar in her hand. Exhibits E and F.

"Hey."

Santana winced at the voice. Not because she didn't want to see her, because she knew she'd been caught.

"You're smoking," Brittany pointed out the obvious.

"Just one."

"Where did you even get that?"

Santana placed the cigar in the ashtray she had taken out of Rachel's Smoking Room. "I know where Rachel keeps the Cubans."

"Why?"

"Needed a break from all the chaos," Santana told her as she placed the bottle on the concrete below.

"You could have told me," Brittany said trapping her against the railing of the balcony. "We could have left."

"Nah, you were having fun."

"But I wouldn't have had fun if I knew you weren't."

"It's fine, Britt Britt," Santana said. "I just needed some fresh air."

"With that?" Brittany picked up the cigar and stubbed it out. "Fresher."

"What are you doing out here?"

"What are _you_ doing out here?" Brittany repeated her.

"I told you already."

"Uh huh," Brittany said knowingly. "It's okay to miss it. And it's okay to tell me you do, too."

"That's just it, I really don't," Santana realized. "Just the awesome view."

Brittany looked over her shoulder, "It's pretty fantastic."

Santana tapped her chin, "But not as good as this one."

Brittany's hands flitted up Santana's arms, over her shoulders, onto her face. She dipped down to cover her lips with her own. When Santana responded, Brittany slipped her tongue into her wife's mouth. She gently sucked Santana's tongue into her mouth and then abruptly ended the kiss. "You taste like a cigar."

Santana sighed, "Not a good move on my part."

"No, definitely not," Brittany said. "You're kinda gross."

"Not something I want to hear from my wife, Britt."

"Well then, don't smoke, San."

"Okay, okay," Santana was properly chastised. "I learned my lesson."

"I'm going to find you some gum," Brittany said as she pulled away and brought Santana with her, "and then..."

"And then...?"

"And _then_ you're going to dance with me."

#

Dancing with Brittany Pierce was pretty intense. At least it was for Santana and she imagined it was for anyone else who had felt that body move against them. She was completely unprepared for it the first time. It was at this shitty little club called Doubles Dive not too far from their apartment. Brittany actually got a round of applause just for entering the building. That should have been Santana's first clue. Even now, after many many times, it was still a mind-blowing experience. Santana always just seemed to melt into her.

There was truly something magical about letting Britt just take control. In front of other people, that is. The other times were a bit more private, but just as magical. Somehow, in the midst of every crazy thing that was going on around them, they could just be together in their own little bubble. Brittany guided Santana's hips with her hands, as she molded herself to Santana's backside. Actually, it may have been a bit risque for Kurt's vocal stylings of Run Run Rudolph, but nobody seemed to care.

"I love you," Brittany breathed in Santana's ear.

"I should hope so, you married me," Santana responded.

"Moment ruiner," Brittany said even though she placed a kiss just above her jaw anyway. "Check your three o'clock."

Santana slid her eyes to the right, "Ew, what is KStew doing to Rachel?"

Brittany's head snapped in that direction, "Oh, no, gross. I meant your 9 o'clock. Sorry."

Santana subtlety spun in Brittany's arms to check it out. Quinn Fabray was watching them out of the corner of her eye from the edge of the dance floor. "She just got divorced, you know," Santana said trying to pull off a straight face.

"Really?" Brittany teased. "I hadn't heard."

"It's really too bad," Santana pouted.

Brittany plucked at her wife's bottom lip, "How about we skip out?"

"Right now?"

"Yep."

"Okay," Santana said as she let her wife lead the way.

"I'm taking her back to the hotel," Brittany told Quinn as they passed. She offered a smug little wave as well. "Maybe we'll see you next time we're in town."

"Sorry about your failed marriage!" Santana called.

By the time Figgins delivered them back to their hotel, Brittany and Santana were pretty exhausted. Santana was nearly asleep when Brittany emerged from the shower, toweling her hair.

"Good party."

"Hmm," Santana sleepily agreed.

"Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah," Santana answered with her eyes closed.

"Talk to Kurt?" Brittany inquired.

"Little."

"Good."

"Sleep," Santana patted the space beside her.

Brittany got into bed and the brunette immediately snuggled into her. Santana was always super extra snuggly when she was tired. Brittany slipped her hand under the hem of her wife's t-shirt and softly scratched her back while Santana's head rested on her chest.

"Night, honey," Brittany kissed her forehead.

When she turned to shut the light off, she noticed a small box just like the one Santana had presented to her at her parents' house a couple days before. She looked back down, Santana was asleep. She looked back at the box and bit her bottom lip. Surely, she was supposed to open it if Santana had left it there.

With her free hand, she grabbed the box and flicked the top off. She sat it on her stomach and reached in.

"Okaaaay," she said to herself when she pulled out a compass. She took another look at Santana who was still asleep. She flipped the gift over and sure enough, there was an inscription. "To guide you home again," she read. "You're so weird sometimes," she commented and then placed the compass back in the box. She placed the box on the nightstand and burrowed into her sleeping wife.


	3. Chapter 3

**62 Miles from Manhattan to Lakewood**

"You're walking really loudly," Santana lifted her aviators to tell Brittany as they filed up the pathway leading to her parents' door. When the sun hit her eyes, she immediately covered them again.

"I'm walking normally," Brittany said to her.

"Are you sure?" The brunette rubbed her temples with her free hand. "It sounds really aggressive."

"My feet are not aggressive. And they can't help that you drank everything in Rachel's liquor cabinet last night."

"You're mean today," Santana whined. When she got to the front door, she pushed it open. "Mami? Hello?"

"Is she here?" Brittany asked as she scooted in behind the other woman.

"Doesn't look like it." Santana walked in further and did a 360 on the spot. She listened to the silence. "Doesn't sound like it either."

When she chanced a glance at Brittany, the blonde hadn't moved much further than the door. She was squeezing the bottle of water in her hand like a vice grip. The crinkling was magnified by a thousand. "You look like you might make a run for it." When she still didn't say anything, Santana reached around her and closed the door, "It's going to be fine, Britt Britt."

"Yeah...for you."

"Brittany," Santana caught her eyes, "It will be fine."

"Santana, she tried to stop our wedding," Brittany hissed. She looked around to make sure Mrs. Lopez really wasn't lurking.

"I've told you a million times, she had a leg cramp."

"At the exact moment the minister asked if there were any objections?"

"An unfortunate coincidence."

"She said the word, 'Stop.'"

"To her leg cramp," Santana said. "Then she sat back down."

"Because your father kicked the back of her leg."

"He was helping with the cramp."

"Sure," Brittany said tersely. No matter how many times Santana fed her that line, she would never believe it.

"Hey, it was a leg cramp," Santana said. "And even if it wasn't. Even if she had protested the wedding, marched in a semi-circle, and had signs made. Even if she had staged a sit-in and handcuffed herself to a radiator, it wouldn't have mattered. I love you and I wanted to marry you. Nothing and no one would have stopped me."

Brittany let out a deep breath, "I love you, too."

"Well, isn't this cute?" the two heard from close by. Too close. "Love declarations in foyer."

"There you are!" Santana squeaked out, then winced as pain shot through her brain.

"Hello, mija," Maribel Lopez said as she walked over to give her daughter a hug. She patted her back several times. "I was upstairs and didn't hear you come in."

"We just got here," Santana held up her suitcase to prove her point.

"Merry Christmas!" Brittany told Mrs. Lopez brightly. The blonde was greeted with a slightly more awkward one-armed hug. "It's good to see you again."

"You, as well, Brittany," Santana's mother said with a thin-lipped smile. She pointed to Santana's baggage and then up the stairs, "You'll be staying in your old bedroom, if that's okay."

"That's fine," Santana said and then gestured for Britt to follow her. "We'll go put our stuff away."

"As soon as they were safely in Santana's room, Brittany turned and said, "She hates me."

"She does not!"

Brittany, who was sifting through her purse said, "She looks at me like I kidnapped you and forced you to Seattle."

"Well, babe, that's because I told her you kidnapped me and forced me to Seattle."

"You probably did," Brittany pulled out some aspirin and tossed it over.

"No, I didn't," Santana caught the bottle and dropped her bag. "I promise you, I didn't."

Brittany dropped heavily onto the bed, "Are you sure?"

Santana opened the bottle and poured out a couple pills. "I'm sure."

"That she doesn't hate me or you didn't say that?" Brittany checked as she tossed over her bottle of water.

"Both," Santana laughed but stopped when Brittany glared at her. She swallowed the aspirin and set both bottles down. "Babe..." She took the few steps to her wife and sat down beside her. "My mother doesn't hate you. Nobody could ever hate you, Brittany. You're the most magical, beautiful woman in the world."

"Thank you," Brittany said as she leaned in to her. "But, I think you're just saying that because your mom hates me."

"Hey," Santana lifted her chin. "You are."

"Only because you make me infinitely more magical," Brittany said right before she captured Santana's lips with her own.

The brunette's hand slipped behind Brittany's neck to pull her in closer as she tilted her head for better access. She had just fallen backwards, tugging Brittany down with her when they heard an obnoxious knocking.

"Santana!" Maribel shouted through the door. "Your abuela is here."

"Mood killer," Brittany complained.

"Okay!" Santana called to her mother. She then turned to Brittany, "Just so you know, Abuela has been really inquisitive lately."

"Inquisitive how?"

"You know Papi talked her getting the Internet. Well, we've been exchanging emails."

"Yeah, I know. That's been going well, right?"

"It has," Santana glanced back toward the door and lowered her voice, "but she's started asking some...personal questions."

"How personal?" Brittany was slightly disturbed and mouthed the word, "Sex."

"Santana!" Maribel banged on the door again.

"Be right there," Santana answered and sat up.

"How personal?" Brittany asked again more urgently.

"Eh..."

"This is going to be fun," the blonde sighed.

#

Santana and her abuela had been very close for the majority of her childhood. They were, in fact, until the day Santana told her she was a lesbian, confirming the news previously reported on public access television. That day, Alma Lopez, told her granddaughter that she wanted nothing more to do with her. The journey back had taken over ten years, but Santana and Alma had reconnected in a way that the younger Lopez never thought possible. Alma had attended her wedding, she even kept a framed 8 X 10 on her mantle of the brides according to Santana's father. They spoke on a weekly basis, sometimes by phone, but recently by email. Alma had discovered all the Internet had to offer as of late.

"Ahí están," Alma said as Santana and Brittany came down the steps.

"Abuela!" Santana greeted her with a hug.

Alma hugged her and then squeezed her arms and checked her over closely. "You're all bones. Why don't you eat?"

"I do."

"Could have fooled me."

"I see Mami called you right away," Santana said, giving her mother a pointed glare.

"She didn't have to, I've been watching with my binoculars since noon. Right after my stories."

"Ah," Santana nodded.

"Hi Abuela," Brittany then said.

"Hola Brittany," Alma hugged the tall blonde. She gave Brittany much the same pat down. "You girls are so skinny. Do they have food in Seattle?"

"Yes, Abuela," Santana answered. "Remarkably, they do have food in Seattle."

The four ladies had survived the afternoon and had already sat down to dinner when Santana's father arrived. He had called earlier and told them he was setting the broken arm of a kid that just got a new scooter. He'd be home as soon as possible. Nobody was surprised by the development, he stayed very busy. Brittany had only actually seen Roberto Lopez a few times. A couple lunches in New York and at their wedding in the summer.

He made the most of those times, though. He was incredibly handsome. His hair had a bit of silver, but he had the same dark, expressive eyes that Santana had. And Santana had most definitely gotten his charm and charisma.

"Lo siento," Santana's father as soon as he entered his home. He walked directly into the dining room, only stopping to give Santana a kiss on the head before slinging his suit jacket over the back of his chair and sitting.

"Papi," Santana smiled politely. "Busy in the ER?"

"Christmas Eve," the man answered in explanation.

"Ah."

"So who's this?" Roberto asked Santana, hooking his thumb toward Brittany.

"Papi!"

"Es broma," he said with a wink.

"Don't listen to him," Santana said across the table. "He knows who you are."

"Of course, I do," Roberto said to the blonde. "How could forget Santana's beautiful bride. How have you been, Brittany?"

"Great," Brittany answered.

"Good," Roberto said as he speared a vegetable. "I take it work is going well for the both of you?"

"Sí, Papi," Santana answered quickly. She hated to talk about work in front of her mother.

"Yeah," Brittany said nearly at the same time. "We're working on a new national ad right now."

"Really? That's great," he commented. "Everytime I see that Fondue For Two commercial on in a patient's room, I tell them my daughter-in-law is responsible."

Maribel cleared her throat, "He used to tell all his patients that his daughter was Rachel Berry's publicist."

The table fell quiet with that remark, all eyes slowly turned to Maribel who continued eating her dinner as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Por favor, mami," Santana said quietly.

"She still could be if she wanted," Brittany told Maribel confidently. "All she has to do is say the word."

"We're happy where we are," Santana followed her up.

Brittany quietly went back to eating and Santana glanced at her father.

"If you two are happy, so are we," he said.

"We'd be happier if you came home every once in a while," Maribel added.

"Mami," Santana sighed.

"Sí, bueno, desde luego no parece que sea una prioridad tuya."

"¿Tenemos que hacer esto ahora?"

"Tu madre tiene razón," Alma added. "You should come see your family."

"Estoy aquí ahora. Y en vez de estar disfrutando este momento todos juntos, estamos hablando de que nunca os visito." Santana glanced over to Brittany. "Sorry," she apologized.

"Sabes que es verdad, Santana." Alma continued. "You look guilty. Just like the look on your face when you were eight and stole Mrs. Ramirez's kitty."

"I did not," Santana denied.

"Santana."

"I did not steal that kitty!" Santana looked to Brittany again, who was waiting expectantly. "A neighbor accused me of stealing her cat when I was eight. I didn't! The cat ran way because Ramirez was such a bitch."

"¿Todavía sigues con la misma historia?"

"English!" Santana gestured to Britt. "And yes."

"Mrs. Ramirez and Santana had many battles," Roberto mused to Brittany.

"She was crazy."

"You made it your mission to ruin her prized roses for nearly ten years," Santana's father reminded her.

"She accused me of stealing her kitty," Santana shrugged. "She had it coming."

"Speaking of Mrs. Ramirez, her grandson was replacing my muffler last week and I noticed he's very handsome, Santana," Alma said.

Santana looked to each of her parents for an explanation as to what was going on before she asked, "What's that have to do with anything, Abuela?"

"I didn't know if you two were looking for fathers yet or not."

Again Santana looked to each of her parents for help. "Uh, thanks for the recommendation, but..."

"And I'd like to see another grandchild before I die."

"Doesn't Yolanda have like four now?" Santana asked with a smirk. "She's good at producing offspring."

"One from you, Santana." Alma said. "Your father agrees."

Roberto choked, "Don't get me involved."

"I'll admit I didn't think it was possible," Abuela spoke to Brittany and Santana, "but now that I'm on the world wide web, I've been reading many articles on the lesbians...and conception."

"That's...great," Brittany said. "Isn't that great, Santana?"

"Marvelous."

"Neither of you are getting any younger," Alma said, eyebrows arched.

"Abuela..."

"Yo ya había tenido a todos mis hijos a tu edad."

"English," Santana reminded her.

"It's okay," Brittany said to Abuela. "I can pick up _some_ Spanish. Like 'hijos.' She smiled at Santana's grandmother. "Also...'más fuerte,' sigue así,' and 'usa tus dedos.'"

Santana snorted. "Down pat."

"No es como si fueramos a ver al bebé de todas formas," Maribel said disapprovingly. "Santana doesn't see the need in visiting her own family."

"Thanks for saying _that_ in English."

The rest of their Christmas Eve dinner was mostly eaten in silence, except for utensils hitting plates and the sound of Santana's eyes rolling.

Afterwards, Roberto quickly dismissed himself to turn in and Abuela announced she had some important knitting to catch up on. Brittany stayed until Santana signaled she could go. She then awkwardly said she was going upstairs to shower. As soon as she was gone, Santana immediately turned on her mother.

"That was uncalled for!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Maribel denied.

"That kind of stuff is why Britt thinks you hate her."

"That's absurd, Santana," her mother dismissed it. "I like Brittany very much. She's so pretty. And playful and sweet-natured."

"Why do you sound like you're describing a puppy?"

"I do not!"

"I know that you don't like that I moved to Seattle," Santana said. "I know that you don't like I gave up my job with Rachel."

"I never said that," Maribel interjected.

"But, you can't blame Brittany for those things, Mami." She looked her mother in the eye. "I'm the one who made those decisions. I wanted to be with her more than anything, and I made it happen. Which is what you always told me to do."

"It is," Maribel said. "I taught you to be independent and strong and go with your gut, and that's exactly what you did."

"Then why?"

"Because...you just...moved away," Santana's mother let her guard down. "You didn't even talk to me about it. You left me a voicemail. And then you never came back."

"Yes, I did."

"To pack up your apartment and to see your friends. Then you'd call on the day you were set to fly out and have us meet you in the city for a quick lunch."

Santana winced at the truth behind that statement.

"And I practically had to beg you to come for Christmas this year," Maribel continued. "You're always too busy."

"We weren't too busy for you, Mami..."

"Sure, sure, Santana," Maribel gave her the Lopez eye roll. "First Brittany was working, then you were working. You still made it to the Pierces, though."

"We were here for New Years!"

"Not here!"

"Brittany had never done Times Square for the ball drop, Mami," Santana said. "We were here the next day."

"For twenty minutes," Maribel grumbled.

"Oh, please. It was longer than that."

"Half an hour, then."

"You've got to get over it," Santana commanded with little room for negotiation. "We're married. We live in Seattle. She's got a great job there, and so do I. And we're b-"

Santana stopped there. She hadn't discussed that particular venture with her mother and really didn't want Brittany overhearing.

"I already know," Maribel claimed. "Your father told me."

"Well, she doesn't yet."

"Which is why I didn't mention it."

"Thanks."

"I wouldn't ruin your Christmas gift to your wife, Santana."

"I appreciate that." Santana rapped her knuckles on the table. "Mami, I wouldn't have left if I didn't know...I knew I was going to marry her. I knew that I would love her forever. I just knew. I wouldn't have changed my entire life for anybody else. It's her. She is..." Santana swallowed. "She just is, Mami. Everything."

#

When Santana opened to door to her childhood room, she stopped abruptly in the doorway. Brittany was lying on her bed, propped up on one arm, waiting.

"What?" The blonde asked when she noticed Santana wasn't moving.

"Uh," Santana swallowed. "I just...I wish I could go back in time tell 17 year old me about this moment."

"I bet 17 year old you was adorable."

"She was a rage case with a bad attitude."

"Bad attitude?! You? No way!"

"Believe it," Santana said as she finally took a few steps toward the bed. "I was struggling with being gay and didn't know what the hell to do with myself."

"Happens to the best of us," Brittany said, extending the arm that had been previously resting on the bed. "Everything okay down there?"

"More of the same," Santana took it and fell into place beside her. "We don't visit enough. I moved."

"Oh," Brittany blew out of a deep breath.

"Don't."

"What?"

"It's not about you," Santana said. "It's really not. You're amazing and she knows it."

"Okay."

When Brittany shifted, she really expected her to rest her head on her shoulder, but instead the blonde twisted around and made a pillow of her stomach. She pulled her knees up into a ball and faced Santana.

"So...are you going to tell me what else is going on?"

Santana panicked, but tried her best to keep it off her face. She kept the secret for this fucking long, and Brittany found out on the day before. Of course. "Uh..nothing," Santana said.

"San..."

"Babe..."

"Sam." It was a command.

"Has intertubes where his mouth should be?"

"Santana!"

"Is a victim of collagen gone wrong?"

"Tell me what's going on with you two." Brittany poked her in the ribs. "I know it's something."

Santana's head rolled to the side. "No, there's not."

"Yes, there is," Brittany said with conviction. "There's some crazy tension there. For weeks, Santana."

Relief washed through her. Brittany hadn't found out the big secret, just the smaller less well kept one. "Did you know Kurt asked him to move to New York? And Sam hasn't given him an answer."

Brittany's eyes darted around for a few seconds before she reluctantly said, "Ye-es."

Santana's looked at her suspiciously. "How long have you known?"

"Since Kurt asked." Brittany's thumb and index finger automatically went to the ring that she wore on her left hand. "And Sam didn't answer."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Santana asked leaning up as much as she could.

"Why didn't _you_ tell _me_?" Brittany asked her right back.

Santana really hated when she did that and she showed her annoyance by dropping dramatically back to the mattress.

"Best friend privilege," Brittany stated.

"Doesn't count when it's you and me," Santana told her. "We've covered this."

"No," Brittany stopped her. "When Kurt and Sam got together, we had to restructure the agreement. Remember?"

"Well, I just found out," Santana admitted. "He-"

"Which 'he?'"

"Kurt, he. Of course."

"Okay."

"Why would Sam tell me?"

"I don't know," Brittany shrugged. "Go on."

"Kurt didn't bother mentioning it until last week. I was busy with other stuff, apparently..."

"What stuff?"

"Nothing," Santana mentally slapped herself. "Work stuff..."

Now it was Brittany's turn to be suspicious, "You haven't mentioned any work stuff."

"It was boring, stupid work crap, baby," Santana tried. "Taken care of now."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay," Brittany's hand absentmindedly scratched at Santana's side. "So, are you mad at Sam for not answering Kurt?"

"I'm not mad. Just...irritated," Santana replied. "Sam is always...around. Complaining. Bitching and moaning about how hard it is not to be with his boyfriend. Like we don't know..."

"We know," Brittany agreed.

"If he feels that way, he should just move."

"They're aren't us," Brittany said as she tapped the spot on Santana's hip that she been circling with her finger.

"Everybody keeps saying that."

"Because it's true," Brittany said. "Besides, I think Sam is going to. He keeps talking about how much he'll miss me and going on about how great it was when we lived together."

"He is?" Santana looked at her wife for any clue that she knew more.

"Yeah," Brittany nodded. "It's a little weird."

"Sam's weird. And irritating. And cramping my style," Santana said with disgust. "And his face looks like one of those inflatable ball pits."

"He almost drowned in one when he was nine." Brittany was completely serious. "Dusty McCracken lost his pants, so Sam went under to check it out and almost died. That's how he knew he was gay."

"And an idiot."

"He's still my bestie, Santana," Brittany said in warning.

"I know, I know."

A comfortable silence filled the room while Santana took in her surroundings. Her parents had left this place largely untouched. The same posters still adorned the walls. She still had trophies from high on shelves with various medals hanging down. It was a time capsule, of sorts.

"I dreamed of you so many nights in this bed," Santana finally said as she lifted her head to look at her wife.

Brittany's brow furrowed, "How?"

"The idea of you. I didn't know your name. I hadn't seen your face, yet. But that perfect girl I hoped to find...it was definitely you."

Brittany's face immediately scrunched in a smile and she pulled at Santana's shirt. "How do you do that?"

"How do I do what?" Santana asked.

"Make me all fluttery," Brittany said.

"Returning the favor." Santana grabbed the back of Brittany's thigh and pulled. "Come here."

Brittany slowly lifted herself to her hands and knees and crawled until she hovering over the brunette. "Do I make you fluttery?"

"You always have," Santana answered.

Brittany went in about halfway before she stopped, "You want to be 17 year old Santana in your bedroom and I'll be the older, sexy librarian you snuck in?"

"Librarian?" Santana asked with a quirk of her eyebrow.

"No?" Brittany thought a second. "I'll be your private tutor, helping you with your social studies."

"Hmm."

Brittany cut the distance in half again, "Better?"

"You know what would be the sexiest?"

"What?"

"My really really hot, amazing, beautiful ad exec wife."

"Oh, I think I can play that part," Brittany winked.

"So, I guess you have no aversion to sex at _my_ parents' house?"

"Nope." Brittany said staring at Santana's lips. "None at all."

"Oh, good," Santana's hands found Britt's ass. "Neither do I."

Brittany's mouth ghosted along Santana's neck, over her chin, to her oh-so-kissable lips. She dropped down to straddle Santana's thighs and reached back to grab Santana's hands and lace their fingers together. Brittany took the opportunity to pin her wife's hands above her head. "Looks like I have you where I want you."

"You can have me anywhere you want," Santana choked out as she bucked into Brittany.

"Santana!" They heard Alma's voice from the hallway which caused them both to still. "I'm staying in the room next to yours. Continue with whatever you were doing." Then after a second, "¡Buenas noches Santana!" and after another second. "Buenas noches Brittany, cariño."

"Goodnight!" Brittany looked down and said to Santana, "With the amount of cock blocking Abuela is doing, I'm finding it hard to believe she's not still against the gay."

#

"Merry Christmas," Santana whispered into Brittany's ear as soon as she saw stirrings of the other woman waking up.

Brittany blinked one eye open, "Mury Kismus."

"Wake up."

The blonde yawned and snuggled back into the blanket.

Santana shook her a bit, "Britt Britt..."

"Hm?"

"I have something for you."

Brittany's eye popped open again. "You do?"

Santana reached behind and presented a box. It was wrapped the same way as the other boxes, but this one was bigger.

"Okay," Brittany brightened and sat up in bed. She reached for the box, but Santana pulled it back.

"Kiss first."

"Morning breath."

"Gimme your lips."

"Fine," Brittany puckered for a quick kiss and snatched the box. She tore it open and just like the times before, she was genuinely confused. "Okay, what's with the weird gifts?"

"You don't like it?"

"It's a pillow." Brittany pulled out gift, turned it around and hugged it to her chest.

"Yeah." Santana plucked it out of her hands.

"It's...well...really ugly, baby."

"Geez, Britt!"

"Hey!" Brittany pointed. "You said honesty always."

"About feelings and shit, not about gifts I stitched myself."

"Aww," the blonde grabbed the pillow back. "You did?"

"...Well...no...I lied..."

Brittany quickly threw the pillow back.

"But the important thing is that I could have. Then you'd feel really terrible."

"I'd feel worse for your eyes, Honey. That's hideous."

"But it has a heart on it," Santana studied it again knowing full well that the thing was not attractive. "It's a throw pillow."

"Can I throw it away?"

"But...the heart!" Santana said again.

"And a little house," Brittany pointed to it. She frowned, "So very ugly."

"I'm hurt," Santana pouted.

"I didn't say _you_ were ugly. You're delicious." Brittany tapped her on the knee. "You want your gift?"

"Uh...yeah!"

Brittany hopped out of bed and rifled through the only piece of luggage she's ever allowed to pack, her carry-on backpack. She discreetly placed a box in her tank top and then reached into the zipper compartment for a photograph.

When she turned around, Santana's eyes immediately dropped to the outline of the box. "Uh...babe, were you trying to hide that?"

"Hide what?"

"I can see that."

"See what?"

Santana waved her finger in the direction of Brittany's boobs, "You're hiding that in your cleavage."

"Can you not humor me, honey?" Brittany pulled the box out. "I was going to do the other one first."

"Oh, okay."

"Nope, now you get this one," Brittany handed the velvet box to her wife.

Santana already had the biggest grin on her face, having a pretty good idea what was in the box.

"Open it."

When she did, her smile got impossibly bigger, "Bling!" Santana trailed her finger over the diamond pendant necklace. "I love it!"

"I know!" Brittany said. "I got the hint when you mentioned it...all fourteen times."

"It wasn't that many."

"Was, too." Brittany slid the picture over on the bed. "Gift number two."

"Tony's!" the brunette said when she looked at it. "God, I love that place."

"Yeah," Brittany said in response to Santana's favorite pizza place. It was the only thing that New York had that Seattle couldn't come up with a replacement for.

Santana flipped over the picture, "Are we going to Tony's? It's Christmas, I'm not sure they're open."

"No, no," Brittany said. "Um...you see the sign?"

"Tony's! The Tastiest Pie in the City. Come one, come all!" Santana recited without looking.

"Yeah," the blonde nodded. "It's in Seattle now."

"What?!" Santana's eyes were wide as saucers. "How? What? How?"

"I worked out a deal with Tony. I have connections, plus a give a good lap dance. Sam's been hiding it for me."

"Double agent, that Sam."

"Huh?"

"Nothing! Nothing...I can't believe you did that...How?" Santana asked again. "Wait, lap dance?"

"Joke."

"Honestly, I wouldn't have cared," Santana waved the picture, "because this is amazing! Thank you so much!"

"I'm not sure what we'll do with it-"

"We'll figure something out..."

"I just..." Brittany shrugged, "wanted you to have a piece of New York...I guess."

"I love this, it's perfect and so fucking cool!" Santana said, lifting the photograph. She pulled Brittany into a hug and kissed her all over her face. "You are...I love you."

"Well, you did say once that Tony's was the only thing you'd leave me for."

"I was particularly hungry that night," Santana said defensively. "I was delirious with pizza withdrawal."

"Uh huh."

"Really!" Santana said sincerely.

#

The previous night's dinner made Christmas morning another semi-awkward affair. Santana and Maribel were barely speaking to each other, which left Roberto and Brittany busy making small talk to fill the gaps. Abuela had busied herself knitting something that looked a whole hell of a lot like tiny baby hats.

Even while exchanging gifts, the only bright spot was when Roberto opened his card and in it was a subscription to the Cognac of the Month Club.

"Thanks ladies!" he said when he read it.

Santana snorted, but still said, "You're very welcome, Papi."

"Change of address form," Brittany shrugged when Santana looked her way. "Apparently Cognac is the gift that keeps on giving."

Santana's gift from her grandmother would have been as well, if she hadn't been completely mortified when she opened a box full of turkey basters. "Abuela!" she had screamed.

"¡Nada de excusas, Santanita!" Alma had replied.

Other than that, the whole house was pretty tense. When the good Dr. Lopez was paged away to the ER and Abuela decided to hop on her Hoveround and motor the few blocks back home, the tension got even thicker.

The stubbornness of Santana and Maribel won out and the entire morning was wasted with silence. Soon, it was time for Santana and Brittany to head back into the city to catch their flight home.

Just as the two were leaving, Maribel finally caved. "Brittany," she said, catching the blonde's arm.

"Yes?" Brittany was almost afraid to ask.

"I'm so sorry if I made you feel anything but welcome...in our home and in our family."

Brittany was shell shocked by the statement. She sort of stared at Santana's mom for a few moments before stuttering out, "Th-thanks...uh...you haven't...that much."

"Yes, she has," Santana snapped.

"I'm apologizing now," Maribel said to Santana. She then looked to Brittany, "Both Robby and I love you. We love you because Santana loves you and you obviously love her as well. We just want her to be happy. And she's very happy." Maribel flicked her eyes to her daughter, "Well, maybe not at this moment."

"Thank you," Brittany said at the sincerity of the apology.

"And, if it's okay, I would like to come out to Seattle and visit," Maribel said. "Maybe in a few weeks."

"We would absolutely love that," Brittany said immediately.

"Would you?"

"I know I would, it would give us the chance to get to know each other," the blonde looked over to Santana who had her eyes narrowed a bit. "And so would Santana. She doesn't look like it right now, because she thinks giving you attitude is making a point...but you probably know all about that."

"I do, Brittany," Maribel smiled at her brightly. "But I think it might be nice to someone else to talk about her with."

"Oh, I'm great at talking about her."

"Thanks a lot," Santana piped up.

"Mostly good!" Brittany said.

"Well," Maribel pulled the blonde into a surprising hug. "Make sure your wife calls her mother, okay. Then we can discuss my visit."

"Don't worry, I'm very persuasive."

**2880 Miles from Lakewood to Seattle**

It wasn't until their plane took off from JFK, that Santana started to feel a little nervous about what was going to happen when they got back home. She had a whole plan mapped out. She had a speech at the ready for any time during her plan that she needed coercion or an explanation. All her t's were crossed and her i's were dotted. The only thing that could go wrong was Brittany. If Brittany didn't like it, or Brittany didn't want to, or if Brittany was super pissed that she made such a huge decision without her. That was really the thing that Santana was scared of, how big of a surprise can it be without being too big a surprise to be surprised with? The nerves were making her a little crabby, too, because the first bit of turbulence made her curse out loud.

"Whoa, honey," Brittany said, patting her knee. "What's wrong with you now?"

"Nothing," Santana snapped. "I'm just...tired."

"It's been a long few days."

"No, well, yes," the brunette replied. "But I'm tired of flying all over the place. They should come to us every once in a while."

"I'm sure nobody would argue with that," Brittany said diplomatically. "Your mom is going to soon. That's progress."

"Yeah, but that's just one," Santana pointed out.

"Yeah."

"Not that I don't like seeing everyone, I do. I just wish we weren't the ones flying all over the country every time."

"Sure."

"I'm not complaining," Santana said.

"You are."

"I'm not," she groaned. "I'm just saying, it's time that they all came to Seattle for the holidays."

"It's easier for us," Brittany said, head on Santana's shoulder.

"To make three stops?" Santana argued.

"We don't have the room."

"Ye-, no...we don't...but they could stay in a hotel," she said. "Or something."

"You know how they would _have_ to come to Seattle?" Brittany said in a conspiratorial voice.

"If I say so..."

"Nooo, if we had a baby," Brittany whispered.

"You think we could just borrow one for the week?"

"San!"

"I'm kidding," Santana told her. "You know, I'm kidding."

Brittany straightened in her seat and angled herself as much as she could. "Are you kidding? You've been kind of weird about the topic lately."

"Not weird."

"Yes, weird." Brittany sighed. "I know we have other things that come before that on the Flawless Plan, but it's never too early to discuss it."

"We're discussing."

"I'm discussing."

Santana licked her lips. "I want, more than anything, to have babies with you. You know that, Britt. I can't wait until we have our own little family of bouncy blondes."

"Or a surly little kid with a foul mouth and your eyes," Brittany followed up.

"Or that," Santana smiled. The idea really was pretty appealing.

"I like the name Naomi."

"Naomi?" Santana let it roll around in her head. "All I can see is an overly dramatic teenager yelling at me about ruining her life. I like it! What else you got?"

"Everett."

"Interesting choice."

Brittany winked, "I'm an interesting girl."

**4 Miles from Downtown Seattle to Beacon Hill**

Brittany had barely jiggled the door handle enough to get into their apartment before Santana was telling her she wanted to go out again.

"Go out?" Brittany asked as she propped her up their suitcase and tossed her keys on the table. "Honey, we just got home. Let's take a bath and go to bed."

"We can do that when we get back," Santana said. She sorted through all the mail that had collected in their box in the lobby before placing it next to Brittany's keys. "It won't take long."

"What is it?"

"Just an errand.'

"Now?"

"Yeah," Santana rested on the edge of the table. "I want you to go with me."

Brittany pouted, "I don't wanna."

"Come on," Santana tried to persuade her. "I'll buy you ice cream. I'll get you a caramel marshmallow shake. Extra caramel, extra sprinkles."

"Hm, extra caramel? So tempting," Brittany said under her breath. She turned to her wife, "But no."

"Britt..."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Ah!" Santana huffed. "Because I have one more present."

"For me?"

"For you."

"Well, why didn't you just say so," Brittany said. She leaned over to pick up her keys, gave her wife's cheek a quick kiss, and headed back toward the door, "Let's go!"

Santana rolled her eyes, "I don't why the hell I didn't just say 'present.' That would have worked so much faster."

"Yep!" Brittany said loudly as she was already through the door and down the hallway. When she got to the elevator, she looked back to Santana. "Wait, where are we going again?"

"That's a surprise, Britt Britt."

"Okay," Brittany mentally ran through any clues Santana may have dropped recently. "Big surprise or little surprise?"

"If you're asking in terms of actual size, that could mean many things," Santana replied. "And could be measured in many ways, for instance, comparable to other "surprises" of it's kind: Medium. Surprises meaning the surprise itself, not surprises in general. If we're talking about our personal surprise meter: Less surprising than me moving across the country overnight, more surprising than a few weekends ago when I woke up early and cooked you breakfast."

Brittany was not amused, "You could have just said you weren't going to tell me."

"But that was so much more fun," Santana responded. When Brittany gave her the side eye, she wrapped an arm around her waist. "I love you," she sing songed.

"Hmm."

The brunette hit the down button for the elevator. When they stepped inside, Brittany did a double-take at Santana's hitting the button for underground parking complex.

"We're driving somewhere? Is this a fancy surprise?"

"Maybe." Santana's mouth quirked up.

"Maybe?" Brittany said as she stepped over to the other woman and rested her hands on Santana's hips. "You're awfully mysterious right now. Definite turn-on."

Santana trailed her finger on the skin revealed by the V-neck t-shirt under Brittany's jacket, "Oh? Then maybe we should just stay in."

"Nope," Brittany winked. "You already said the 'p' word, now you have to give it to me."

"I promise, either way, I'll give it to you, babe." Santana hooked her finger into the Brittany's shirt and gave it a pull. She rocked up on her toes to steal a kiss. "How did I get so lucky?" she asked as she licked her lips.

"You got about as lucky as I did," Brittany said.

"Then we both got really fucking lucky," Santana said huskily. Her fingers trailed around Brittany's neck and pulled her wife down for another kiss.

"Orrs owen," Brittany mumbled while Santana's lips were still sliding against hers.

Santana pulled back with a pop, "What?"

"Door," the blonde gestured. "Open."

"Oh," Santana pulled the other woman out of the elevator to their car. When they approached, Brittany automatically moved toward the driver's side. "Whoa, whoa, no."

"You're driving?" Brittany asked.

"I'm driving."

"You never drive."

"I'm driving tonight," Santana said. She held her hand out expectantly. "Keys."

Brittany tilted her head to the side, "What's going on?"

Santana mimicked her expression, "A surprise, I told you that."

"A surprise that _you're_ driving to?"

"Yes." Santana made a grab for the keys, only to have Brittany hold them above her head.

"Saaaan, tell me where we're going."

"No!"

"Give me a hint."

"Nope," Santana shook her head.

"I won't give you the keys unless you fess up."

Two years with Brittany and she was still completely susceptible to the pout. The sexy wink still got her every single time. The cute morning mumble made Santana melt. However, two years gave her enough time to learn a lot tricks of her own. For example, the spot just to the inside of Brittany's hip bone was ticklish as hell. If only she could get close enough to hit the spot before Brittany figured out what she was doing.

Santana sighed, "Okay, babe. Okay."

"You'll tell me?"

"Yeah, I'll tell you," Santana crept closer. "I wanted it to be a surprise, but if you want to know..."

"I do," Brittany said, dropping her hand ever so slightly.

"I had this idea..." she took another step, "a while back," one more step, "for something that I just knew that you'd love," distract Brittany with her right hand leaning on the car, "and then the perfect one," and just wait... "just..." until Britt's eyes move over...now.

Santana hit the ticklish spot and Brittany immediately dropped her arms to giggle which gave her the opportunity to snatch the keys. Easy breezy.

"Don't challenge the master, hot stuff," Santana said as she gave her now pouting wife a pat on her ass. "Hop in."

"Not fair," Brittany complained.

It was a couple miles down the road before Brittany stopped pouting. The traffic on I-5 wasn't too bad, and Brittany kept looking at her every time they passed one of their normal places.

"Hey did you hear Quinn got divorced?" Santana asked cheekily.

"No," Brittany deadpanned. "That's brand new information. Maybe you can marry her, tickle her, and take her keys."

With every new building passed, Brittany seemed more and more confused.

"Relax!" Santana said about the eighth time Brittany looked at her with her lip curled up. She reached across the console to rest her hand on the blonde's thigh and noticed Brittany turning her wedding ring on her finger. "Don't be nervous, babe. Just a few more minutes."

Brittany shifted around in her seat and sat up a little straighter when they entered the neighborhood. It was a neighborhood she knew like the back of her hand. "What are we doing out here?"

"You'll see," Santana told her with a squeeze to her leg.

By this time, Brittany was staring at her. She was a little afraid to think what she was thinking, because if it wasn't what she was thinking, she'd be a little disappointed. Her hand went to her mouth by habit and she chewed on her thumbnail.

"What's wrong?"

"San," Brittany warned her.

"What?"

"Did you do what I think you did?"

Santana laughed timidly, "Well, that depends on what you think I did."

"Did you?"

Her hand grasped her wife's. "You did, didn't you?"

"I may have," Santana shrugged.

Brittany watched closely as they passed street by street, waiting to see theirs.

When Santana turned down a very familiar street, Brittany started to cry. "Santana, are you serious?" she asked as she quickly wiped a tear off her face.

"Hey, don't cry." Santana clutched her hand tighter. "Happy moment."

When Santana actually pulled up in front of the house, Brittany was smiling through all the tears. Santana hopped out and went around to open the door. "You want to see it?"

"Ha ha, Santana," Brittany said as she took her wife outstretched hand. "I know everything about it already."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"How did you even do this?" Brittany asked in awe as she looked at her childhood home.

"The people that bought it from your parents were selling it. Good timing, I guess."

Brittany snapped her head to Santana, "Good timing, you guess?"

"Great timing?" Santana teased. "You told me when we came here that it was the perfect house to raise a family, you remember?"

Brittany wiped away a tear and nodded almost imperceptibly.

"I had already been checking out the market...and I saw it...and...I have the perfect girl. I needed the perfect house."

"You're amazing," Brittany said as she rushed forward and hugged Santana tightly.

She pulled a shiny key out of her pocket, "So you wanna go in?"

"Yes!" Brittany did the cute butt wiggle. "Of course, I do!"

The two women walked hand in hand up the sidewalk leading to the front door. "Sorry I couldn't find a big enough bow," Santana said when she laced their fingers together.

"I can't believe you bought me my old house," Brittany said still in shock.

"I know it's kind of a huge decision to make without you."

"It's perfect," the blonde said without a moment's hesitation. "And I've never loved you more than I do right now."

"Not even on the night of the double armpit double fantasy? You loved me a lot that night."

"Yes," Brittany said after a second of deliberation. "Even more than that night. Even more than our first night on your couch in New York, our first night locked in our bedroom in Seattle, and the day I married you, Santana Lopez."

Santana stopped when they got to the door and pulled Brittany in, "I love you, too, Brittany Pierce. Merry Christmas."

They shared dreamy smiles before Santana unlocked the door, "Go ahead," she motioned for the other woman to go inside.

Brittany passed by with a smirk. Santana waited just a couple of seconds before she heard exactly what she was expecting to hear.

"An air hockey table! Score!"

###

**A/N:**

**Thanks Reyes! Thanks Alex! Thanks NayH! Thanks for reading.**


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